A TMNT FanFiction: Torn Hearts
by becs1153
Summary: Two childhood friends, one with a startling history and the other with a startling appearance. Both must keep the other a secret. And one could alter the structure of mankind but does not yet know it. What could possibly go wrong? **Undergoing editting**
1. Part 1: Meeting

****Entire story is being editted so if a chapter changes this is why. I will put whether or not a section has been editted at the beginning of each. Reviewers are luved! :)****

**~Editted~**

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**_**Our destiny can be examined, but it cannot be justified or totally explained. We are simply here. **__~Iris Murdoch_

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**_A hiss of fury shot through the darkness. "You are mad," a voice said.

"Perhaps, but sometimes what seems like madness is the best way to get things done," another voice spoke.

"To bring the Shredder back will take enough power on its own, but to restore the ancient peace will take more," a third voice mused.

"Do you forget where the source of ancient peace comes from?" the second voice spoke again.

"The jewels, but they have been lost for centuries. How do you expect to find them?" The third voice sounded doubtful.

"Technology is much more than it was, to track the jewels by the waves of power that rolls off of them should be simpler than you think," the second voice replied.

"I still believe this is all madness," the first voice spat.

"Believe what you will; majority is against you old comrade," the second voice said smoothly.

"The Shredder is the one who caused the ancient peace to fall in the first place. His rebellion was the destruction of our congress and himself. His evil caused our flaw," a fourth voice said. "Shall we trust him once more?"

"We must," the second said seriously, "or no power shall come at all."

"He shall rebel again," the fourth replied, "a greedy heart never dies."

"The Shredder shall only stay long enough to restore our congress, then the rebelling will be ours," the second argued.

"His power is great, and we have none without the jewels. The Shredder knows that," the fourth voice stayed steady, but a heavy sense of doubt sank into the air.

"This plan is mine!" The second voice boomed, shaking the structure around them. "Whoever objects may leave and never come back! Do you dare rebel? Do you dare stoop to the level of the Shredder?"

"We are not of or with him," a fifth voice said softly. "We do not rebel, but do think about your plan before it is carried out. If the first step is to bring the Shredder back, we may never be able to change our decision."

"I have meditated on this plan," the second voice said with anger. "It is flawless!"

"Then go ahead," the fifth voice replied, "but during this plan, we only stay for the good."

"You were never truly faithful to the face of ancient peace," the second voice hissed, "With this power we may rule the world and repair its wounds."

"Yes, but we shall never be able to repair mankind. They have become selfish and ignorant," the fifth voice said with sadness.

"That is because our power has long since been demolished," the second voice shot back.

"Then, as I said, do as you must," the fifth voice replied calmly.

"I will," the second voice growled. "First step, to restore the Shredder."

* * *

Children are easily imprinted on, scarred or inspired by people or events. It shapes their destiny, hope and even their personalities. And most of the time, one imprint can lead to larger ones. Sometimes, it can be shared between two people. Those are the biggest imprints of all. People live off their imprints, and whether we know it or not, it also shapes our personality. Things that happened to us as a child may cause us to be more sensitive toward things, more tolerant towards other things, and perhaps even our cravings and likes/dislikes are shaped by our imprints. It shapes our fears and even our life. The choices and choices that are made for us shape us as beings.

An eight year old girl with tossled brown hair and dark green eyes had been imprinted on by fire. She lived a lonely and reserved life on the top floor of the New York City orphanage. She had lived; her parents did not.

Fire filled her heart, eyes, mind and memory. As humans, we search for a source of our troubles. We blame. That's what this girl, Cally, did. She blamed herself. No one else could be blamed. Cally lived a separated life. She detached herself from the others, came late or not at all for meals and somehow always avoided adoption interviews. As for school, the nuns taught her. Cally enjoyed learning. She excelled within book-smarts but still remained mentally unstable. She would have breakdowns in the dead of night to where one would think they were hearing an orphaned ghost crying out for the life that never was.

If Cally was not like this, she would be the most wonderful child one could imagine. Aren't a lot of children like that? If only they didn't do this or that they would be a perfect child. But Cally would be a special child that could live in every human's heart even if they never met her. Cally was smart yes, but the level of book-smarts tends to cancel out our common sense level. If one has an extremely high level of book-smarts, they tend to lack in common sense and vice versa.

Cally was also very insightful, she liked the deeper meaning of life which is uncommon for someone her age, but Cally had been through a lot. What Cally went through is too much for most, even the most mentally stable. Her mental maturity was higher than most eight year olds because of her circumstances. Cally loved natural beauty with both the land and people; and she didn't particularly like makeup like most girls her age began to look towards it. Neither did she like judgment; the way she saw it, people are either good or make mistakes that lead to more.

Unfortunately, none of these characteristics stuck out to anyone around her. All you could see was a broken child. Just because Cally was more mentally mature than most her age didn't mean that she wouldn't let her messed up life get to her. That was her issue. Why didn't her grandparents take her? An aunt? An uncle? Anyone? But no. She was left alone to be tossed into the world with no one to parent her to it. That's the way Cally saw it. She was unwanted and alone. A very hypocritical statement since she disliked judgment because she judged the world for leaving her to her own. The nuns were required to make her adoptable, she didn't see anything done out of love.

The nuns would take her to different psychologists each week. It seemed that each one was further and further away that the last. All they wanted was her to be adopted but there were no takers. So they tried to break through her damage with psychologists but it only hardened it. All Cally needed to break through her damage was love and it was never given to her. The only psychologist that made a positive difference was the one that said, "Maybe having a friend will help the child."

Cally had never heard the word before except in her spelling lessons and books. But she always thought it was an imaginary thing like the kind of love in teen romance movies. From what Cally knew it was someone that you played with or told secrets to, but Cally had no secrets and she didn't like to play. It was another imprint on her. She didn't like to play because the one time the nuns convinced her to try just to see if it would help, the other children just looked at her stupidly when she walked up and ran off to play without her. One little girl with two long pigtails tried to play with her, but her older sister dragged her away whispering the words, "The freak girl."

Lying awake in the dead of night is what she began to do thinking of what a friend really was. Did you have to play with them? Maybe you could just talk to them. Cally wanted someone to talk to, someone who wouldn't write everything you said down.

One night, Cally grew bored with simply lying in her bed and got up, leaving her unshared room. She went on to venture down the hall. When people venture, their minds are more open, they notice things they normally wouldn't have. It's mostly because we're not really paying attention to where we're going but more to our surroundings. We're not rushed or looking for anything particular. Cally noticed a solid black door at the end of a hall way. Approaching it, she greeted the door with a long stare. The handle was a pull which meant the other side was push. It was cold and rough. She ran her hand down the surface and caught the handle.

We doubt destiny sometimes. We don't know its destiny but we consider what may happen if we make that choice but we aren't open minded optimistically most of the time when we consider this. Cally thought about it and came to conclude that if she were caught wandering, she would be punished. So she doubted destiny and released the handle.

But destiny doesn't let us go that easily. If it truly is destiny, something pushes us towards it. For Cally, it was a loud slam somewhere down the hall that made her jerk open the door and run into where ever in there was. We don't think when destiny pushes, we just do. Cally wasn't thinking either. She was breathing heavily and her heart was still pounding with the adrenaline that had just instantly infested her body.

Cally knew she couldn't be found wandering at night. She would get in trouble. That was another imprint. The nuns whipped for punishment. They used scare-tactic to get obedience and yet they spoke of a gentle and loving God. In one form or another most forms of authority are hypocritical. Then again, almost all people are. I haven't met one that hasn't proven themselves hypocritical. It doesn't have to be in major things but maybe just in a small opinion or such.

Unsure what to do, not even any ideas to flip through, Cally leaned against the wall. It was pitch black and she could see nothing, but she wasn't afraid. Cally actually found the darkness relaxing. Perhaps it was because she could see nothing, it brought nothing to mind, it was emptiness and after Cally's life so far, emptiness was better. Something jutted into her back and as she straightened up to see-or feel- what it was, it clicked and a weak light flickered on. A harshly built staircase was revealed in the dim light. It was cement but it was old. The edges were cracked and some were missing pieces out of it. Cally scrunched her bare toes in and out as she considered her options.

Destiny is a friend of curiosity. And curiosity is the single reason that Cally walked up those steps. What would lie at the top? Her imagination that rarely showed began to open possibilities. Perhaps another world where she lived with her parents in that small apartment downtown. It had rather worn and shabby, but Cally had loved it. At least her parents had been there and maybe they still were, just in a different form. She shuddered at the thought.

The stairs stopped where another door stood. Cally stared dumbly at it for a bit, wondering whether she should open it or not. Would she like the new world? Her mind still sat on that. But then a voice with no source entered her mind. _You've come so far, why stop now?_ Cally agreed with the voice. If she ended where there was no end there was no point to her effort. So Cally swung open the door and breathed in a harsh scent that flooded her nose.

Within an instant, the sounds of car horns and people on the streets surrounded her. The sounds were combined as one loud roar. You could distinguish each one if you tried but if you didn't it was just one sound, the sound of the city. It left Cally within awe. Even though the moon shown on the world it was not needed in this brightly lit place. Street lamps were lit, store signs, advertisement light ups, billboards, even the cars had their headlights on. She had seen New York City within the day but it was almost as if it went through a transformation during the dusk to be this at night.

Cally took the choice to stay here. She liked it and figured that it would be easier to avoid getting caught by staying up here. Then Cally noticed a figure slumped over to the side of the roof of the orphanage. She had never introduced herself. Never had to. Perhaps this was a friend, so she stepped closer.

City lights revealed a rounded back as Cally got closer. It shocked her; no one had a back that round. When we see something different in the dark we become frightened, but Cally didn't fear much anymore. What was there for her to fear? The figure stood up and appeared like they were about to make their escape down the building's fire escape ladders.

"Wait." The words spilled boldly out. Cally had the sudden want to talk to this person. It made no sense to her but she knew what she felt. They straightened up, as though to know that someone was there frightened them. Cally spoke another command. "Don't go."

"Why?" The voice came out strained with fear. Cally wondered what this person was so scared of. They didn't look any taller than any other children at the orphanage so she assumed they were a child like her.

"Why would you?" Cally asked. Why would they have to go? They were here why did they have to leave?

"I have to," The child replied. Cally frowned; she figured they had to but why?

So she proceeded to ask. "Why?"

"I ca-can't be caught." Caught? Cally couldn't be caught either but she was just another kid, what was she going to do?

"You've already been caught." Cally was indignant.

The child turned to face her. "You can't tell anyone!"

Cally released a gasp of awe. Before her stood a giant turtle, it was the height of a child and had a child's expression of fear on his face. He stood on two legs and had three fingered hands with opposable thumbs. His hands clenched and unclenched as he stared at her. He wore a red mask that stretched from the top of his nose and pulled over his head so that only his eyes was the only thing that showed above his nose. It didn't frighten her like it would most but simply sparked curiosity.

The boy made a face a mix of terror and disgust. "My master told me I wouldn't be accepted, he was right." His voice was filled with contempt for Cally and he turned to leave.

"Wait! It's not that. You just surprised me, that's all." Cally reached out a hand, as though it would help stop the boy. She slowly lowered her hand. "No one will accept me either." She bit her bottom lip.

The boy turned back around to face her. "Why not?" His curiosity was suddenly peaked as well. Why would the world not accept a completely ordinary girl?

Cally opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it. She hadn't really thought about that. "I'm not sure. No one will talk to me and they call me a freak. Am I ugly?"

Bashful, the boy shook his head quickly. "Don't you have any siblings?" Unlike friends, siblings usually accepted each other no matter what. He knew that better than anyone.

Cally shook her head. "I'm on my own. I want a friend but I don't know how."

"To make a friend?" He moved closer, messaging he was more at ease than he had been. What was wrong with this girl? She acted like the world treated her like it would him but she was completely normal. Was the world more corrupt than he had been told?

"You know?" Cally smiled. Her quest had been met and maybe this boy despite what he was could be a better friend than anyone she had ever met could be.

"How to make a friend?"

Cally shook her head. "What a friend is." If this boy knew how to make a friend maybe he could tell her what was wrong with her, why others wouldn't accept her.

"You don't know?"

"Would you tell me?"

The boy smiled. "No." He knew what he was doing. He had always wanted a friend from the surface. Maybe this girl could prove to him that the world wasn't all bad that there was some good in it. The boy had always been told that coming up here was pure danger but maybe she wasn't.

Cally looked down at the hard roof, disappointed. Why couldn't he show her? Did he see what was wrong with her too? Was it really that bad? Most people tend to judge themselves harsher than anyone. We see our faults before we see our perfections. But Cally didn't know what her fault was and figured she had no perfections.

Then he spoke again, "I'll show you."

Cally looked up. "How?" How do you show someone what a friend was? Was it like those examples the nuns used during lessons to show her how something worked or to help things make more sense?

"I'll be yours." Three words that rushed through Cally like a dream. What she had been purposefully looking for she accidently found. She got that feeling that we get when we finally find what we're looking for. Not only do we get that feeling that a big weight is off our shoulders but we feel more free for just that one moment and we get the feeling of satisfaction.

Destiny smiled at its foundation. It knew this was going to be good. One looked for a piece of satiability in her life and the other searched for a piece of good in the world. It was like two colors that complimented each other perfectly that make others stop and look in wonder thinking why can't I do something like that? And this was truly beautiful.


	2. Challenges

**~Editted~**

**Reviews are luved!**

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**_**Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies. **__~ Aristotle_

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"I have considered your words. I have decided that we must locate the jewels before we locate the Shredder." The lead voice sounded.

The voice with wisdom chimed in. "How do you expect to do that? It's not as though we can freely explore the human world."

"Just as I thought," the voice of doubt voice rang the harmony, "this plan is corrupt and unsound. It will fail and ultimately destroy us if we proceed!"

"No," the lead voice was firm, "I have found a way."

"And how is that?" the peacekeeper's voice spoke in.

"I have found a few 'friends' that are willing to help us," The lead replied.

"You don't mean the old allies of the Shredder, do you?" The voice of doubt spoke in disapproval.

"They are changed since the Shredder has gone and agreed to help us," The lead argued.

"They helped us to bring back their leader!" The doubt snarled.

"He is right," The wise put in. "They will rebel with their leader when he has returned."

"I did not say they would help us bring back the Shredder, but simply locate the jewels." The lead said with sound.

"And when will they begin this work?" A fifth voice replied.

"Must you always appear uninvited?" The lead said with disdain.

"Will you not answer my question?"

"They already have. In fact, they have located the first jewel," The lead voice spoke with pride.

"And the location?" The doubt inquired.

"Do you remember the great leader, Maysa?"

"Yes, but she has been deceased for centuries now," The peacekeeper sounded surprised.

"Perhaps, but her reincarnation is in the city of New York, along with her loyal advisors."

"So she has returned! But why do we not use her instead?" The fifth voice inquired.

"They are all but only children now, and by the time we have brought back the Shredder they shall be just what is now called 'teenagers.' They will come as no use to us."

"The location! Where is the first jewel!"

"That is a shocking secret I have found. It seems that one of Maysa's advisors was desperately in love with her as she with him. It would not be accepted in the open so it was kept in secret. A journey came upon the advisors and the four had to leave. The journey's purpose was never discussed or known. Before departure for the journey, Maysa's lover gave her the jewel we are looking for as a gift. Her advisors never returned. Maysa discovered the power of our jewel and protected it from greedy and evil hands such as ancient Shredder-"

"So he was greedy even in his ancient life?" The doubtful spoke up.

"I am not finished yet. And just before she died, Maysa had one of her most trusted allies promise to have the jewel put into her body when she died. It was done. When Maysa died, the jewel was placed into her body. The jewel now lives inside this young child of New York City."

"And how do you propose to retrieve the jewel from the inside of this child?" The fifth voice challenged.

"The Shredder will be our link to the human world; he shall be able to use the technology to safely extract it from her."

"And how do we get the child?"

"We must decide that later. We do not yet know how we will even use her, let alone get her."

"So we shall proceed with the collection of the jewels then?"

"Yes."

* * *

Destiny kept its work up. Cally and her new friend had agreed to meet every night on the roof. Like most children, they saw no flaw with their plan and had every night happening in their head with optimistic outcomes. The boy saw that his family would never quite accept the fact that he had a human friend but figured they would never catch him sneaking away. Cally saw that the nuns would never understand that she had a giant turtle as a friend but assumed that they would never catch her sneaking out either. They both had the same idea of how it would work and thought it would never fail. They were like all other people when their completely optimistic about something in their life.

So as planned, Cally went to the roof the next night. She frowned in disappointment when she didn't see her new friend. The sounds of the city still roared in her ears and the stench of garbage night drifted under her nose making her cringe.

"Hi." A voice from behind made her jump. The thoughts of being caught suddenly raced through Cally's head and her heart pounded.

She turned around to see her friend staring at her with a proud smirk. "Hey!" Cally frowned. "You scared me!" She couldn't help but smile out of relief that she hadn't been caught and with joy because her friend had showed up.

The boy simply grinned. "That was da point."

"Why?" Cally demanded. What gave him a right to scare her? Was that what friends did? It actually seemed rather fun, but she refused to give up her frown until he had answered.

"I'm a ninja," He boasted with a proud smirk, then hesitated. "Well, in trainin'."

Cally had heard of ninjas in her lessons. She had been told they were from Japan and could slip in and out of shadows and had extremely good self-defense skills. To her, it sounded like a human dressed up in black with the abilities of many different animals. Now she had a ninja for a friend, Cally thought that was pretty neat. It explained why he wore that mask. She wondered if he could do all the things that ninjas did.

Cally made a face. "So just because you're a ninja you can scare me like that?"

"Yeah, pretty much." The boy nodded, smiling.

"That doesn't seem fair." Cally frowned. She had always heard the saying "Do unto others as you would have them do to you," but did that give the person wronged a right to get revenge? If it did, she had no way of getting back at him that made it unfair to her.

He grinned. "Maybe I'll teach ya some ninjitsu lata."

Cally shrugged. "Alright. Besides," she added, "You're supposed to show me what a friend is." She sounded anxious to know the answer.

"No," He corrected her. "I'm supposed to be yours."

"Well, what do friends do?" She inquired. Cally prayed he wouldn't say play and tell secrets.

"I guess we should know each other's names." the boy seemed to realize just as he said the words. "Mine's Raphael. But I usually go by Raph."

She nodded, "Mine's Cally." Cally had completely forgot about names. It was like that little thing that's so important that we completely miss because we're so focused on the bigger thing, like forgetting to put our name on a big test that we studied so hard for.

"Cally," Raph repeated.

"You say it funny," Cally giggled. "By the way, are- is there any more like you? Turtle people I mean." She couldn't help but wonder. Was there a whole other world here full of people like him? Cally figured that she could fit in better with people like Raphael than she could with her own. But maybe he was just a misfit like her.

Raph hesitated, and then replied, "Yes, three bro's, and my father, but he's a rat. He's also my sensei; he teaches me and my bros ninjitsu." So there were more like him and it was his family. Cally slightly frowned. She didn't remember what it was like to have a family. All Cally knew about a family is what the nuns had told her- that she needed one.

"So why aren't your brothers or father with you?" Cally sat, and motioned for Raphael to sit too. He did, doing so in seiza position. She looked at his legs curiously and how he sat on them. Cally tried to do the same but flinched in pain and when back to criss-cross.

Raph laughed at her then chewed at his lip. "I'm not supposed ta be up here, and by up I mean tha streets." Cally thought as the streets as 'down' not 'up'. She wondered where you would have to be so that the street was above you.

So she curiously asked, " Where do you live?"

"Tha sewers," He replied. Raph flinched right after he said it as if he had given away some kind of secret. He suddenly seemed lost in his thoughts.

"What's a sewer?" Cally's curiosity grew. This was her first connection with the outside world other than riding for long car rides and psychologists. Even though he looked like he lived a more hidden life than she did, he knew more about the world than she did.

Raph came out of his thoughts with a sigh like he had finally given up on something. "S'like an underground tunnel, where rain from tha streets go," He replied. "And what you flush down the toilet," Raph added and let loose a wicked smirk waiting for her girlish reaction.

Cally made a face. "Eww!" She imagined a murky river filled with that stuff. Just the thought made her nose twitch with disgust. Some of the small children at the orphanage didn't flush and she knew what it smelled like after sitting there for just a while. That was an imprint that caused a pet peeve- the toilet had to be flushed before she went within a ten foot range of it.

"Maybe ta a girl." Raphael shrugged, still smirking. He was becoming somewhat attached to Cally even though it was only their second night knowing each other. She was rather easy to talk to because she asked a lot of questions about him so it wasn't like they sat their awkwardly while one came up with something to talk about.

"So you're not human, are you?" Cally asked; she wanted to know what Raph was. Maybe she could ask the nuns if they had heard of what Raphael was. She wouldn't tell them she had seen one but simply that she had heard the word and wanted to know what it was.

"Half." Raph answered simply. He played at his hands nervously. Raph-unlike his brothers and father- was sensitive to what he was. He replaced shame with fake rudeness to those who wouldn't accept them but it offended him more than anything. That was his secret but he wouldn't tell even Cally.

"Half?" Cally wondered what he meant by half. She didn't think about there being an in between. To Cally, being human was like being a girl. You either were or you weren't, there was no morph between the two. But there was with being human apparently.

"I'm half human." Raph sighed, still playing at his hands. His shame was getting to his stomach.

"And half turtle?" Cally guessed because of his physical turtle-like appearance.

"Yah, s'what a mutant is." Raph murmured softly, awaiting her frightened reaction. Half of him figured she wouldn't freak since she hadn't the first time she saw him, but the other side was pessimistic and said that Cally would freak and never talk to him again. All humans are like that and he was showing his human side. Why do we do that? Are we insecure, do we halfway want our worst case scenario to take place, or are we just being practical and wish for a happier side to the situation?

"Never heard of mutants." Cally shrugged. She was used to not knowing most things that other children did. She secluded herself so it was no big deal to her not to know things that other people did. It was actually typical for her.

Raph frowned. "Ya neva heard of anythin'!" It shocked him how little she knew despite the fact she was normal-to him. Cally didn't even know what a friend was. It was strange that she didn't have one. From what Raphael had seen on television, he figured that friends was a must have for all other children. Honestly, a lot of what Raphael knew about the surface world was from the television.

Cally just looked away. Was that bad? She was used to knowing stuff but would Raph think it weird? He might leave her. Ignore her. And then she'd be left by herself, betrayed by not only normal people but mutated ones too. If even the oddest person ever thinks your weird then what are you? A freak? Was that what she was?

"What's wrong?" Raphael asked. He didn't mean to offend her. It suddenly frightened him, the fact that if she betrayed him, she knew where he lived and could betray his family as well. That dread still bubbled in his stomach. Why did Raph tell Cally where he lived? He knew how much danger that put he and his family in. If anything Raphael was faithful to, it was his family. And he would have only proved his father right when he said the world would never accept him.

"Nothing." Cally murmured. She didn't like to give into weakness, to let people know that she had it. Very few people knew that she cried herself to sleep at night. They simply thought that she toughened herself out when her parents died and didn't want trust anyone, but Cally would give anything to have someone to trust.

"Then why are you upset?" Raph pressed. He knew from his brothers that the appearance of anger with the answer of 'nothing' to the question 'what's wrong?' didn't mean that everything was okay.

Cally smiled. Unlike anyone in her life before, he cared. He sounded like he did care, unlike the nuns when they asked if she was okay like she was required to answer or she would be punished. "Really, it's nothing," She gave him a sideways glance and smiled. She laughed at the expression on his face, not out of humor but it was an expression she hadn't seen anyone give her before and she liked it.

Raph's expression was actually out of fear and curiosity really. He did want to know what was wrong with Cally, she was strange and different. He assumed that that was why she wasn't frightened by him. Cally was different on the inside, not the outside. Raphael was also frightened that she would betray him and didn't want that either. But when she went from being upset to laughing within seconds, he couldn't help but say, "You're like Mikey." And he said it with a smile.

"Who's Mikey?"

"My youngest bro; he's a nut." Raphael smiled. Mikey was the humor of his family. He could always lighten someone's day. For Raph, he would pretend he didn't care and go on with his mood but on the inside he felt better. To us, Mikey's motto is 'a laugh is the best kind of medicine' and it is. And whether he meant to or not, Mike could always bring the laughs around.

"Oh. So like what happened?" Cally asked the random question. She wanted to know how he got like that. Was he born like that? Did he used to be a turtle or a human? The questions ran through her head. Cally had a lot of questions but didn't normally voice them. She had tried before but either she wasn't heard or was ignored. Since everyone she was around seemed to think her odd, she assumed she was ignored. And Cally was right. All the other children thought she was strange. She didn't like to do all the other things children like to do. Cally didn't fit into the stereotype. Normally, we would think of stereotyping as gender or race but not age; but it's true. We stereotype by age. Teenagers are supposedly always rebellious and maybe it's that thinking that makes them that way. Children are supposed to like to run, play, and have fun; but when the circle doesn't fit into the square it's simply cast out. Cally was cast away from the mold into the pile of 'misfits', she knew it but didn't know why. Cally didn't know the stereotype for children, just that she didn't fit into it.

"What?"

"How did you get like that? You know, mutated."

"I don' know…" Raph frowned slightly, he didn't like the subject. All he knew is that he used to be a turtle and got covered in ooze and was mutated. But he didn't want to tell Cally. He was still afraid of being judged by her. That was Raph's imprint. Because his father had always told him the world would never accept him for who he was, he became sensitive to being judged for what he was. Raphael hid it well like he did most of his feelings, but he knew it lived inside of him.

"Why not?" Cally thought you always knew what happened to you. She thought it was a figure of life.

"Don' donnify me 'kay?" Raph tried his best to avoid the answer. Even though he completely made up the word, it fit so he used it.

"Donnify?"

"Ya, my otha bro Don wants ta know 'bout everythin'. So if someone asks constant questions we call it donnifyin." It wasn't completely true. His brother Don did ask a lot of questions but not one used the word 'donnify'. But he would try anything to avoid the conversation of his mutation.

"Oh." Cally looked at him, still curious. "But why do you live in the sewers?" Why not an abandoned building?

Raph suddenly stiffened. "I can't tell ya everythin'." He scowled. That was true. If Cally knew _too_ much then decided to give them away, he and his family would be done for. In truth, Raph didn't want to create a reason for him not to trust Cally because he wanted to trust her. He wanted to prove that the whole world wasn't as his father said. He was nursing his scar.

"Why not?" Cally frowned. She thought that friends told each other everything. All people do that. We assume that a certain thing is supposed to be a certain way like a sport with all the rules and regulations laid out. But life is so much more flexible, it can be any way you want or maybe not the way you want it.

"How do I know I can trust ya?" Raphael shot back. He knew he could trust her, but like I said before, he didn't want to create a reason for him not to be able to trust her or fear not being able to trust her.

"Well, I trust you, so you can trust me." Just like 'you scratch my back; I'll scratch yours' right? Not quite. Trust doesn't come that way. It's like a language teacher's essay questions. You have to have reasons to trust. It doesn't come automatically. If we automatically trusted everyone, the world would be a different place. Better in some areas but not in others. Like just trusting someone you don't know on the road with you, it might not turn out so well if you know what I mean.

Raph seemed to think about that, "Maybe…but I can't tell ya anythin' more 'bout us."

"Fine."

"Why've ya neva made a friend before me? I'm not foreva though." He frowned. Raph played the hard to get game by saying 'not forever'. Did Cally really care or was she just here out of curiosity? He wanted to know.

"They don't understand." Cally felt herself falling deep into her feelings, it twisted inside of her chest and wouldn't let go. It was a certain emptiness that drained yet consumed her. Why didn't people understand her? Why couldn't they see what she had been through?

"Undastand what?" Raphael gave her a sideways glance. He didn't know what she was talking about. Who didn't understand her? Understand what?

"That someone must always be to blame for everything." Cally went on, still filled with her sudden emptiness. That's the way she felt. Someone had to be blamed for everything. From car accidents to things falling off the shelf, there was someone to be blamed. For the moment, she was unaware of Raphael's presence. She was too caught up in herself.

"What does that have ta do with anythin'?" Raphael was getting curious. People didn't understand her. Someone had to be blamed for everything. What was she getting at?

"The only one to be blamed is me." Cally droned on. Most of us-including me- place the blame on others even when we know it was us. But instead, Cally placed the blame on herself even when it wasn't her.

"What the shell are ya talkin' 'bout?"

"My parent's death." Cally became once again aware of Raph's presence. She turned to look at him with saddened eyes. He looked at her for a moment before his reply.

"Your parents are dead?" Raphael gawked at her. No wonder she was so different. He pitied her because if his family was dead he'd be worse off than her. He understood struggle, yes, but not as well as Cally did.

"Yes." Cally answered shortly, close to tears.

"How?"

"A fire." A small apartment building. Cally had snuck into the small den when she couldn't sleep and heard something strange to see flames licking up walls of the den. In panic, she had raced out of the apartment without getting her parents. Cally had run all the way down the lobby where she was stopped by the doorman. In violent sobs of fear she told the doorman there was a fire and he immediately called the fire department. It was too late by the time the firemen got there; the fire had consumed the den and her parent's bedroom with them still in there. Cally forced the tears down. Why didn't she get her parents? It was her one regret she would live with the rest of her life, and it wouldn't be the only one.

"And you're ta blame for that?"

"Yes." Cally hadn't thought about her parents' death till now. It saddened her soul inside out, but we have to face our sorrows to overcome them. It was something that had been buried that Raph- that destiny had uncovered. A task destiny does is to uncover what we've done our best to bury. The tears swelled up.

"Why must someone be blamed for that?" Raph's voice was uncommonly soft. He touched her arm and prayed she wouldn't cry because he had no idea how to comfort one of his brothers when they were crying let alone a girl.

"Someone has to be to blame for everything." Cally said solidly. Looking at Raph, she swallowed her tears again and brushed away his hand to tell him she was fine and didn't need any comforting.

"For everythin'?"

Cally thought for a moment then answered, "Yes."

"So then someone should be ta blame for tha reason I'm like this." Raph decided to use another example instead of her parents' death. He looked at his three fingered hands. Was somebody to blame for his mutation?

"Yours is different." Cally told him stubbornly. What she wanted to believe was true and what she didn't wasn't. We all tend to do that with things. We say something isn't true just because we don't want it to be.

"My problem's s'big as yours, both our lives were changed." Raph began to be sucked into himself, thinking on what he was. Was he a monster like most of the world would be believe he was? Was he truly? The pain swelled in his chest.

"But you didn't lose anyone. Mine's a loss."

"Ya think havin' ta hide in the sewers, and tryin' ta fight tha urge of seeing what's up here which I failed at, is a great life? Besides maybe things will change for ya." Raph fought the pain with optimism. He wanted to believe he wasn't a monster so he shoved the 'truth' into his head. And it was true. Raphael was never a monster and never would be, if only he would truly believe it.

"The only way that will happen is if I get adopted and I've never been to an adoption interview." Cally wasn't even sure if she wanted new parents. What if when she got adopted parents she forgot about her old ones? It wouldn't be so bad, she guessed, since she would also forget about what she did to them.

"Adoption interview, what's that?"

"Where some people that want one of us orphans come and have an interview with us, you know, ask us questions about ourselves." Cally had never been to one so she was going off what the nuns had told her it was like. They had hoped by now she would be willing to do it, they were afraid to make her because of the things she might say.

"Why would they want one of ya?"

"I don't know. They don't have a kid, I guess." Cally shrugged. If only someone wanted her. It was the only thing she dreamed of. She didn't go to the adoption interviews because she was afraid of being denied and turned down, just as the world had done to her.

"So, 'cause they don' have a kid, they can take someone else's?"

"No, none of us have parents. I told you my parents died. We belong to no one." Cally truly felt she belonged to no one. In her heart was the emptiest feeling in the world every day because of that.

"Well, yeah, but I didn' know it was like that. Ya shoudn't be scared ta at least try." Raphael encouraged. His dad always told him to try things before he decided he didn't like it or it scared him. Why should Cally be scared of trying to fix her life? Humans are sometimes afraid to fix their lives. We fear the struggles it might take.

"Try what?"

"To make some friends. Go ta an adoption intaview. Try to turn ya life around instead of just feelin' sorry for yaself." Raphael- even though he was a child- knew that simply feeling sorry for yourself would do nothing. Actions had to be taken.

"What if I don't want to?" Cally challenged. She wanted to but hid her craving for love deep within herself.

"Too scared?" He grinned. Raphael treated her like one of her brothers- they couldn't resist a threat of weakness, except for Don. He was just happy if you left him alone so he could go on with whatever he was doing.

"No!" Cally hid a smile. Truthfully, Raph's trick worked. Cally couldn't resist a challenge to her weakness either.

"Then do it! I don' get ta talk ta nearly half as many people as ya do, you're the lucky one!" It was true; Cally was the lucky one to Raphael. She could talk to whoever she wanted- or at least try.

She smiled back. "Maybe…I'll think about it." Her craving was being slightly fed. She had a friend. It was a start for her.

He sniffed and looked off into the city. Cally thought she saw a slight red tint to his cheeks.

"Well, I got to go." Cally stood, suddenly feeling slightly awkward. "The nuns will get worried if I'm tired tomorrow."

Raph stood as well. "Same here." Without saying good-bye he descended down the building using the fire escape stairs. Cally watched him take a metal lid off the cement ground and climb down, shifting the lid back.

_So that must be where a sewer is_, Cally assumed. She was disappointed that Raph had left so fast. Slipping back through the black door, Cally ran down the stairs and snuck back into her room.

Lying in her bed, covers to her chest, Raph's voice echoed in her head, _"…make some friends…go ta an adoption intaview…too scared?"_

Cally frowned, though amusement could be seen sparkling in her green eyes, and as if he were there, she answered, "I'll do it." For the first time since her parents' death she felt truly happy. Her life had reached its climax and was turning for the better.


	3. Caught

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**_**Life isn't worth living unless you're willing to take some big chances and go for broke.**__ ~ Eliot Wiggington_

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"She's made contact with one of her advisors," The voice of wisdom commented.

"Good. Which one?" The lead voice sounded optimistic.

"She has met the one of short temper, but he doesn't have a short temper."

"Then how do you know that it is he?" The doubtful threw in.

"All the others have the right personality, the one of leadership, the one of wisdom, and the one of light."

"But it is one of the key traits. How shall we know if he is the right one? If we can unite the empress with her advisors then the ancient peace shall truly live once again," The uninvited fifth voice commented.

"Yes, and they could be our link to the human world," The wise one commented.

"In order to do so, we will need to overthrow the Shredder when his work of restoring our power is done. How will we do that?" The voice of doubt said with logic.

"Maysa was the only known human to be able to use the power of the jewels. She is linked to us in some form. But just one human in control can be troublesome, that is why the four advisors are needed. Each of them plays a different role in leadership." The peacemaker was slowly seeing a world of perfection coming back to them. A world that had long since been forgotten.

There had been a world where these five ruled. They were unseen but believed in. The five used humans to carry out their will. These humans were called prophets. Every human knew that the power of the Ancient Peace came from six jewels that were located in the temple into which only the prophets could go. The most powerful prophet was known by the name of The Shredder. People respected him but he wanted more; he wanted the praise that The Five received. So he plotted without telling to steal the six jewels. Each prophet goes in alone and The Five are not directly connected to the human world so can only do things through other prophets. Taking the jewels therefore was easy. No one would suspect a prophet so it was assumed that The Five had left them- abandoned them. The world turned to chaos and The Five, without their power, could only watch their world fall apart. People turned to greediness, the desires of the heart, or just simply what your gut told you. But the heart is selfish and the gut filthy. The Shredder took over with his allies, and attempted to take over the world.

But because the people had turned into what they had, they wanted what The Shredder got and turned on him. Even his own allies turned against him in greed. He was brought down and buried, sworn never to be brought up again. The Five struggled to find a human to use to restore their world but never had. The only human who stayed true was Maysa and her four advisors.

"Do you forget that Maysa is in the form of but a child? She does not recall the memories of her past life." The doubtful remained as he was.

"But by the time our power is restored and Maysa and her advisors are needed, they will be 'teenagers.'" The lead voice threw its argument back.

"Is that good enough?"

"It will have to be."

"What about the jewel that lives inside her that we will need?" The peacemaker gave a question.

"We shall gather that one last. If we have trouble with The Shredder, Maysa will be our only hope."

"So we shall leave her be until needed?"

"As well as leaving the jewel entrusted with her. If we leave the jewel with her, then we shall be able to get through to her when she is needed."

"Why did we not do this earlier?" The doubtful demanded. "We could have fixed this world."

"Because, the human race needed to learn their own lesson. But it is now apparent that they shall not learn it on their own. For now we concentrate on gathering the other jewels needed to restore our power. Some is better than none and Maysa will no doubt give us the sixth one when we are ready."

* * *

Destiny and love have a complicated relationship. Sometimes they work together. Other times, love comes uninvited, causing complications. This time, it was causing complications. Raphael couldn't help it; it was just the way he felt. His father had warned he and his older brother of these 'feelings' but they both denied that they would ever fall into it since they had each other and didn't need anyone else neither did they thing they would ever even meet a girl.

Raph slipped down the ladder into the sewer, landing in the stinking water. They always took showers at night to get rid of the stench. Luckily for him, tonight had been garbage night, so Cally hadn't been able to register his smell. Standing there, he looked up, thinking about Cally which caused his face to gather a slight pinkish tint to his green face. He shook his head, trying to gather himself back up. He didn't need her. He did, but not like that.

"Raphael!" A voice made him jump.

Raph's heart dropped into his stomach. He was caught like a thief caught with the stolen items in hand. The sudden unsinkable plans that he and Cally had just went down with the Titanic. The voice was his older brother- Leo.

Leo spoke again. "You're not supposed to go up there." Raphael cringed at the tone. He hated when Leo got bossy with him. Leo had nothing over him but age, but that didn't stop him from telling Raph what he should and shouldn't do. Occasionally, they got along just fine, but not when Leo tried his luck at being in charge when he didn't need to be- or at least when Raph felt like he didn't need to be which was all the time.

Raph just frowned, turning away from Leonardo. "Shaddup, Leo. I'm almost ten; I think I can handle myself." He was very independent, and felt weakness when he was dependent. That's why even if he was allowed to talk to humans, he wouldn't tell anyone about Cally because he depended on her to show him that the whole world wasn't as bad as his father made it out to be.

"Are you stupid?" Leo snapped. He felt differently. Leo was only doing this to help Raphael even though it didn't seem like it. Not many siblings feel protected when the older one tells you what to do. Leo knew the horrors that would happen to his brother if he went up there, his father had warned him of them. It tore him apart to know he could lose any of his brothers from one little mistake. That was Leo's secret. That one worry that eats us inside out when we're alone in our beds at night- that was his. His family kept him sane and to lose a part of it would drive it out of him.

Raph snorted. "No. Ya went up there too when ya came with us ta tha surface when we met that kid and tried ta teach him what Masta Splinta taught us." He turned to face Leo, waiting a defense.

"I was stupid then." It was true; Leo had gone up to the surface before with his brothers. At the time, he hadn't thought of losing a brother but of helping another kid defend himself.

Raph grinned. "You didn't change." He enjoyed destroying his older brother's 'high-horse' ego, mostly because he was halfway jealous. Ninjitsu came naturally to Leo; Raph was pretty good but not as good.

Leo just sighed, knowing he couldn't win verbal battles with his brothers. "Of all the insane things to try, you had to try to go up there. By yourself. You're lucky I caught you before something bad happened." Stress twisted in his chest and he began to purposely be bossy.

Raph let out a whiff of relief but made it sound like a blow of hot air. He was clear. But still he knew he couldn't act relieved so he frowned. "You're soundin' like someone's mom, 'cause I know ya ain't mine." Leo sounded like a mom a lot. 'Master Splinter said not to do that' or 'if you do that, I'll tell Sensei' was what Leo usually said when he or one of his brothers started to do something against the rules. But all Raphael heard was 'blah, blah, blah.'

Agitated steam rolled in Leo's head and the stress twisted tighter, but he stayed physically calm, hiding his anger. "Just come on, Master Splinter's been looking for you."

Raph followed Leo with no reply. Silently, he called Leo what he had heard the men who were sometimes in the alleyway when call each other. No guilt ever built up in Raph and a good thing. Guilt leads to doubt which blocks destiny. Sometimes rules and true destiny contradict but you can't let it stop you.

A hidden room deep within the sewer system away from the sewer stream soon came into view. It wasn't quiet. One side with an old beat up television was blaring a black and white "Frankenstein" while a voice nearby was hollering, "Turn it down, Mikey! I'm trying to work!" Not quite chaotic and neither was it relaxing, but to Raphael it was home.

Mikey, who was laid out on the old beat up couch in front of the television, wailed back in return, "But it's better louder!" Though he still turned it down for his older brother.

Raph turned to see Don at his worktable with a screw-driver, messing with a TV antenna. Donny always had some kind of tool in his hand. The only time he didn't was during training or at meals when Splinter told him to put it away for then. Sometimes he made really cool stuff. He had fixed the old television so they could watch movies on it. But other times it either blew up or turned out 'not the way I planned'- or at least that was how Donatello explained why a project never turned up finished.

Leo made his way over to Don and peaked curiously over his shoulder. "What are you working on now?" He inquired, watching Donny's hands steadily adjust the arms of the antenna

Without looking up, Don replied, "I got the DVD player and TV to work; now I want to see if I can get channels on it. It would be nice."

"Hey, Raphy!" Mikey called, hanging over the couch. One of his hands was holding a bag of chips and the other was shoving them in his mouth. "Where were you? You, like, disappear every night, dude."

Sometimes destiny has to be covered up like a project that isn't ready to be shown yet. People just wouldn't understand it; they would discourage it or scorn it. And if criticized enough, the project would be abandoned, left just the way people hated it.

"I go on walks," Raph half-lied. He did go on walks, but he didn't said where he went. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Leo giving him a sharp, suspicious glance when he answered. He knew Leo doubted his answer. Raph felt like Leo always thought he was up to something bad.

"Like adventuring?" Mikey asked with a wide smile. Mike loved anything related to food or stuff that made him feel like a superhero. There had been an old superhero movie that their father had found in a dumpster one day and brought it home for them to watch. Michelangelo had been obsessed with superheroes ever since.

"I suppose." Raph assumed that if he didn't really answer he wouldn't really have to lie. Children do that all the time. They avoid the question so they don't have to answer or they give a half answer so they don't have to lie.

"Can I go too?" Mikey nearly fell off the couch as he used his arms to push himself over the back of the couch and closer to Raph. A wide grin was spread across his face and his eyes shone.

Raph instantly frowned, suddenly getting defensive. "No!"

Mikey shrank back, a little startled. Leo and Don had snapped their attention to Raph. It wasn't like him to get instantly mad. Yes, he had his limit, but it usually lasted a little longer than that.

"Uh…well, see, I um prefer to go alone…" Raph stuttered, feeling a drilling hard look from Leo.

"Hopefully these walks include practice, Raphael," A soft voice rasped from the shadows.

"Ah, well, not always," Raph admitted. He had snuck up on Cally that night and he planned on teaching her some ninjitsu. That was practice, right?

"Perhaps there should be more of that," The voice stepped out of the shadows. A tall slender rat with grey fur in a brown robe appeared in the light. He held a knobby staff in one hand, his tail slipping out from under his robe curled up and over.

"Y-yes, Master Splinter," Raph murmured. He expected Leo to mention him "almost" going up to the surface, but to his surprise, Leo said nothing.

Master Splinter nodded and gave Raphael an approving smile like he did all of his sons when they did something well. He trusted his sons- some more than others but did trust that Raph would come through to his word like he usually did. He then called Leonardo into the dojo to help him with his fear of heights. It was always known that Leo feared heights but it was never spoken of, for Master Splinter said that it would be disrespectful to do so. But Raphael would indirectly mention it from time to time when Leo made him angry.

After a moment of silence, except for the TV, which Mikey had turned back on, Raph walked over to the beaten up, old blue couch. He laid on the top of the back-board of it. The black-and-white screaming people of Frankenstein played on. Mikey just kept eating his chips.

Raph yawned, closing his eyes. Screams and growls lulled him to sleep and destiny worked away, proud of its masterpiece in progress.


	4. Feelings

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"_**I wish they would only take me as I am." ~**__ Vincent van Gogh_

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"They are doing well with collecting the jewels," the leader said.

"They are not disrupting anything, are they?" the peacemaker inquired.

"Of course not!" the lead voice sounded offended. "They simply take the jewel and then put everything back just as they found it.

"Do we still know that we can trust them?" the voice of doubt sounded suspicious.

"As I said before, we have no choice but to trust them for now. When they collect five of the six, we shall leave them."

"Then how will we bring the Shredder back?" the wise spoke up.

"When we have five of the jewels, we will have some power to recall prophets to carry out the duty," the leader replied.

"Then what is the Shredder for?" the uninvited inquired.

"He will restore our shrine. Then when he is done, Maysa shall help restore the sixth jewel and use her power to ban The Shredder. She will call upon more prophets and spread our good news to the world," the lead confirmed.

"What if she is unable to bring down The Shredder?" the doubtful still remained skeptical. "You said so yourself, that the world has much more advanced technology. What if it can be used to be more powerful than the jewels?"

"She will be. The powers of the jewels, if used correctly, cannot be stopped by anything," the leader sounded impatient. "You yourself should remember that."

"What about the people? Have you not thought that perhaps their greed has carried out too long and that they desire no leader but themselves?" the fifth voice was strained.

"The human race has an empty spot where we were, always have. They have tried to fill it with many things, but to no prevail. When they hear of the news, their hearts shall truly be filled," the lead argued.

"What if they refuse?"

"We shall take them by force. Like a parent, we know what's best for them."

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The next night, Raph calmly walked out of his home, knowing Leo was bound to follow him. In fact, he half awoke the night before to hear Leo muttering to Don about how he was suspicious of Raphael doing something else on his 'walks'. Proud of himself, Raph gave way to a smug little smile. Leo would follow him, yes, but he couldn't keep up with Raph from where he was going. Raphael had to work harder to get to Cally that night, but he enjoyed the challenge of getting to confuse his older brother.

Raph took off in the opposite direction of the usual way he took. He was running, splattering stinky water up around his feet as he went. Turning down tunnel after tunnel, his mind read the map in his head of the sewers.

The water splashing under his feet gave way to his position, that's what he wanted, for now. He grinned, coming up with a plan like this made him feel like one of those cool street fighting teenagers from the movies that they watched. He wanted to be a street fighter like Mikey wanted to be a super hero. No normal nine year old- almost ten- could come up with this kind of plan; then again, he wasn't a normal nine year old. For Raphael, this was his indestructible plan, like one a plan we come up with when we think everything is crashing and we get this one great idea that builds everything back up.

Coming to a large cylinder-like room that dropped down, he stopped, listening. The sewer water went around his feet and fell below him in a large, pot-like pit. Several holes opened on the round wall, each of them contributing water to the pit. The edges of his toes curtly brushed the edge of the tunnel, hidden by a steady stream of water. In front of him was the end of a rusted pipe, it was bent and broken. As it came up the cylinder wall, one section bent so that it shot out right in front of the opening Raph stood before. The top of the pipe that hadn't broke off the wall, still hung, feet above where the pipe bent over.

They would use this pipe to grab and swing to the tunnel beside the one

he was in. The pipe was not one long pipe, but it was many small pipes connected by shorter, but greater in diameter, sections.

Raphael jumped out, grabbing the pipe. Instead of swinging across, his grip changed to the lower portion of the pipe still on the wall. Slowly sliding down, he kept his eyes on the opening he came from; to make sure Leo wasn't watching. Coming to a lower opening, Raph gripped the round side, and swung himself in.

A bit of pride built inside as he ran against the water down the tunnel. Raphael came to a ladder that let up two levels of the sewer. He started climbing up, taking his time. He only went up one level because going up another would leave him at the surface buildings down from where he was supposed to be. Glancing around, Raph reminded himself where he was. To the right just led to a dead end, but left led to a T-way. Running to the left, he knew he was late. Cally would probably be gone by the time he got there.

When coming to the T-way, he turned left, because going straight across would lead home.

Going straight the rest of the way, he came to the usual ladder. Raph gave way to a stupid smile, suddenly thinking of Cally. For some reason, he didn't need Cally's smiles or frowns to know what she was thinking. He had only known her for two nights, yet he knew that her eyes seemed crisp when upset, soft when sad, and bright when happy.

Griping the cold ladder tightly, so much his strained hands turned pale green from his usual forest-like color, Raph sighed. What was he getting himself into, liking her so much? He had only seen love in those scary movies Mikey adored. Theirs, if she even knew he liked or that she even liked him as well, wasn't like that. Besides, could they even be like that? He was a mutant. And to add, they were only nine and eight.

Raph bit his bottom lip. How? Could it? Why? Why not? And if? So many doubts and hopes ran through his mind he grimaced. The sudden mix of emotion twisted his stomach. Too many emotions can cause a person to become ill, if Raphael wasn't careful, it would happen to him. It's like a girl who hasn't gotten over her boyfriend. They were best friends and dated, he hurt her. It's agony if she ever sees him again. Sadness, anger, and the little smudge of love that still lives in her. It happens to everyone in one form or another. For Raph, it'd be happiness mixed with doubt.

But no matter how twisted he felt, he made a promise to Cally. Raph had told her he would be there every night. And he wanted to keep his promise. Raphael liked keeping his promise anyhow.

Cally was the one he could talk to, that was his age without being scoffed at, laughed at, or being replaced by "science". Well, that happened only sometimes, but Raph could go to her and talk to her all the time; or actually when he could, at night. In a child's mind what they like is fair and what they don't isn't, if that puts it into simpler terms. That's why Raphael liked talking to Cally. She was an outside source of letting out, as he with her.

As Raph climbed up that ladder to the surface, he smiled; whether it worked or not, they were friends. He slipped up into the dark alleyway. The sloppy men were there again, but Raphael didn't worry because they never saw him. They called each other names and couldn't stand or walk right. They talked funny too, like all their words were one.

Raph hoisted himself to the top after climbing up the fire ladders on the building. Looking away into the city, he almost knew he was going to see a roof, a small house-shaped building with a door, and nobody there. It gave him an empty feeling.

That's probably why he almost killed over form a heart attack when he heard, "There you are!" Instead he jumped, causing a hand to slip. Grabbing the top again, Raph hoisted himself up all the way.

"Yah, go ahead, kill me, no one'll miss me!" he muttered sarcastically, loud enough for Cally to hear, though sometimes he really felt like this. Raph tended to be very pessimistic on his bad days with thoughts that nobody liked him or wanted him around, but he covered it well with anger.

Cally giggled, "Of course someone will miss ya!"

Raph shook his head. "I was bein' sarcastic," he remarked.

"Sure," she grinned. "So where were you?" For the first time in a long time, Cally was actually happy. She had a purpose in her broken life now. She had something to look forward to every day and someone who her age who would talk to her and not call her a freak.

Raph frowned, but not at her, "I had to take the long way. I thought my brother was following me…" On the inside he was actually rather proud of himself. He had successfully avoided Leo despite his brother's probable attempt to track him down.

Cally bit her lip. "Don or Mikey?" Those were the only two that Raphael had mentioned the names of.

Raph shook his head. "Neither, it was my older brother, Leo…"

"Hm," Cally nodded in thought. Then she smiled, her eyes dancing. "I accepted your challenge."

Raph looked at her in confusion. "What challenge? If it was trying to kill me, it didn't work. Plus, I don't remember challenging you to that."

Cally giggled again. "No, the one where I actually talk to people."

Raph grinned, "So you weren't as scared as I thought you were. How'd it go?"

"It was alright, the nuns were pretty shocked when I talked to them outside of lessons." Cally smiled, not mentioning one part. The nuns had been shocked yes, but the other children had simply ignored her when she came to breakfast with them. They had cut in front of her in line to get their breakfast and had left her at a table by herself. When she tried to talk to them, they ignored her, not even looking at her.

Raph smiled back, not seeing what Cally had hidden. "What about those adoption interview things?"

Cally shrugged. "They scheduled one for tomorrow, that I'm still nervous about." Surprisingly, since she had made such sudden progress, the nuns didn't see why she couldn't try for an adoption interview. But Cally was still scared of being rejected.

He smiled at her gently. "Hey, don't be. So what about friends?" Raph was the only person- even if Cally didn't know it- that could relate to her on being rejected, though he didn't know that she feared rejection, he did know that he even feared it himself. Raphael's own physical appearance had rejection written all over it.

Cally frowned. "They still think I'm weird, they don't understand how I felt…" They didn't know how Cally felt. Where most of them felt angry towards their parents for abandoning them or dying, and others tried their best to forget their past and look for a better tomorrow, Cally sat on her old life and wished for it to come back.

"Not many people can, Cally." Raph sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "If people saw me, they'd treat me worse." It was true. Instead of being rejected, Raphael would be snatched up and studied by scientists all over the world, or be put in Area 51 if it truly existed. Some would riot saying it was like killing a newly found endangered species, just to see what's in it, but it most likely would do nothing to help but instead just simply cause public unrest. His life would go down in the history books as a freak of the world and he would never be known for who he truly was on the inside, of course no one is. It's always our actions that define us and never our personality. People think they know our personality through our actions. But we're always wrong to do that to people because we all do it every day. Robbers are robbers, murderers are murderers, drug addicts are drug addicts, and they are never treated as people with a heart when perhaps it was that treatment from the beginning that made them what we label them as.

"I don't," Cally frowned. "So why can't other people treat us like I treat you?" Why couldn't other people treat her the same way he did? The thought silently slipped through her head.

Raph looked down at his feet. "That's the way the world goes, I wish it didn't." But whether he knew it or not, Raphael was completely right. It is how the world goes.

Cally hugged her knees to her chest." I wish it didn't either." she sighed. A moment of silence passed between the two friends, both wishing in their hearts for things that they wanted to be.

He smiled at her. "At least the whole world isn't like that."

She smiled back and nodded, not saying a thing. Cally was glad she had someone that accepted her. Finally, there was something slowly, but steadily breaking through her damaged soul. It gave Cally hope but most of all it gave her a friend.

To a child, the perfect world is one where everybody thinks just like them. That's why destiny's masterpiece was looking more and more beautiful as Cally and Raph's friendship flourished. Because both Raphael and Cally wanted a world that would accept them for who they were they complemented each other perfectly.

"What does it feel like to be all alone? No one to talk to." Raphael let the question spilled, his curiosity getting the best of him. He had thought about it earlier. Raphael was never alone, even when he wanted to be. How did it feel to be alone even when you didn't want to be? His brothers always seemed to bug him when he just happened to want to be alone, but what if you didn't want to be alone? What if you wanted someone to be there when there was nobody?

Cally stiffened a little, not as if she were upset, but as though she was sucked into the memories of her loneliness, reliving it in her mind. "It hurts to feel like nobody wants you. That nobody loves you. I'm eight years old and I'm on my own sort of."

Raph frowned, trying to understand. He had his brothers and Master Splinter; he had never really felt that rejected. Raphael knew that some of the world would reject him but his family never would. They always wanted and loved him. He bit his lip. He realized through Cally's words that he abused having brothers. He had someone when he wanted nobody, but it sounded worse to have nobody when you wanted somebody.

Call abruptly stood up. "I-uh-I have to go…" Her voice sounded like it almost cut off at last word. The more she thought about her loneliness the more the tears began to threaten. She didn't feel secure crying in front of Raphael so she decided to leave quickly so she wouldn't.

"Uhm, okay." Raph bit his lip, feeling a bit guilty. Could it be because she was upset by the question? The thought hit him.

Cally glanced back at him, and the next thing he knew, he was being hugged.

"Thanks." She smiled, letting go.

"For what?" Raph asked, curious.

"Everything." She grinned, then turned and ran in the black door.

After a minute of standing with a burning red face that matched the color of his bandana, Raphael climbed down the side ladder of the building, then into the sewer. He smiled as he walked home in the stenching sewer water because he was thankful to her for everything too, but mostly for accepting him for who he was.


	5. News

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**_**"My best friend is the one who brings out the best in me."**__~ Henry Ford_

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"They have retrieved two jewels for us," the leader spoke with pride.

"How did you tell them to ignore the one in Maysa?" the doubtful inquired.

"I simply told them that it would be the most difficult to retrieve so we shall come to get that one last," the lead voice shot back with scorn.

"Sounds logical," the wise replied.

"How did you communicate with them in the first place?" the peacemaker inquired.

"They found the fifth jewel before the mission began."

"Why did you not tell us this?"

"Because, if you knew, you would find more reason to distrust them."

"We never trust them! We don't trust the Shredder! We don't trust anyone you're using!" the doubtful boomed as the others stayed silent, but the air felt heavy with agreement.

"I never said we trusted them, but simply would have more reason to distrust them. They are all only temporary. All to be replaced by Maysa and her advisors who shall bring them down," the leader replied, struggling to hold his calamity.

"And if they rebel before Maysa can help us?" the uninvited spoke.

"They won't have reason to rebel until the Shredder is brought back. Maysa will be able to help us by then. The jewel lives in her stomach. It knows where it is and when it is needed."

"We trust you," the peacemaker said softly.

"You have no reason not to."

The next night Cally was bursting with news, like most children, when something happens so that they want to tell someone. Actually, all people do that. When something good happens to us, we can't hold it in no matter how hard we try. We have to tell someone, or the news will eat us inside out like a parasite. And as Cally bounded up the stairs that was exactly what she was going to do.

To Cally, Raph was her closest connection to normalcy, despite his physical lack of it. He was slowly bringing her back to her sanity, which was to believe that the whole world had not rejected her that there was someone out there who would fill in what her parents had left. Just as destiny had beautifully molded, he was her first friend since her parent's death. Cally loved Raph with that children's true friend kind of love. The most innocent and beautiful kind of love in our world is the love of friendship.

For some reason, the stairs seemed longer than before tonight. Everything seems to take longer when we want it to take quickly and take quickly when we want it to take longer. And when she finally reached the top, Cally threw open the door out of excitement and stepped out.

A rush of wind and a thud came from behind Cally, making her heart race. She turned to see a stunned version of Raphael on the ground.

"What da shell!" he screeched. To Cally's surprise, Raph simply stood up and brushed himself off as if he had tripped instead of fallen fifteen feet.

"What were you doing up there?" Cally demanded, her heart still pounding, "you scared me!"

"Not da way I planned," Raph muttered, crossing his arms and looking up at the sky.

While he was staring into the sky Cally made a face at him, "At least you succeeded."

Raph gave a short laugh, "Yah…I guess."

"Did I scare you?" Cally grinned. Her excitement was built up and it showed. She rocked back and forth with impatience to tell Raph what had happened.

Raph snorted. "No!" It was a lie. He wasn't expecting her to jump out so suddenly; then again, he shouldn't have been hanging over the side so far.

"Yeah I did, you liar!" Cally laughed. "I scared a ninja!"

Raph sniffed, but couldn't help but smile. "Whatever." He didn't quite want to admit to being scared, but neither did he want to keep arguing when he knew from having younger brothers that it was pointless to defend himself. Raphael really only defended himself when he was angry or offended, and he was not either of these.

Cally stuck her tongue out at him.

"So why'd ya burst through da door like dat?" Raph inquired, looking over at Cally. He gave her a gawk as he watched her rock back and forth on her heels, wondering what was up with her.

"I have news," Cally shifted from rocking on her heels to bouncing on her toes. A wide grin spread across her face like a swish of paint across a canvass.

"What kinda news?" Raph smiled, crossing his arms.

"I'm being adopted!" Cally burst out, smiling broadly. She was eccentric for her oncoming life and thankful. If not for Raphael's acceptance she would still be who she was a few nights ago. One would be surprised by how a simple solution fixed a big problem so fast. All it took for Cally was for just one person to accept her and she was cured of her instability.

"See? What did I tell ya?" Raph smiled, pulling Cally into a hug. She was surprised he did, since his face had turned so red the night before when she hugged him.

"Thanks," She smiled at him.

Raph nodded in return, "So what happens now?"

"My parents pick me up in the morning and take me home. That means we can't meet here anymore."

Raph frowned, suddenly worried. "So if we don' meet here, where do we meet?"

Cally bit her lip, and there was an awkward moment of silence. Then she spoke, "What about in my new room?"

"How will I find it?" Raph asked, stress cracking his voice. Was this the end for them? "New York City is huge!"

Another awkward moment of silence passed.

"I have an idea!" Cally smiled. "I can't roam the city, but you can! What if I give you a signal?"

Raph thought for a moment before he slowly replied, "I could search a section every night. What's your signal?"

"I'll use a flashlight."

"A flashlight? There are millions of lights in tha city!"

"What if I flashed it 3 times every 5 seconds?"

"That could work…"

"I'll open my window, so you can see it better."

After a minute Raph looked up and smiled. "Alright, but it might take a while for me ta find ya…could ya do it every night?"

"I promise!" Cally grinned, highly satisfied.

"Cross your heart?" Raph tested, leaning a little closer to her.

Cally crossed her heart with her finger; and Raph straightened up and nodded.

"So what are your parents like?" Raph changed the subject. He sat down on the hard roof, sitting seiza.

Cally sat down beside him, hugging her knees to her chest, "My mom is a baker, so I hope I get to test her food. And my dad is a sheriff. They're both super nice."

Raph grinned, "Do ya think ya could store some of dat food in your room for me?"

Cally nodded, laughing, "I'll try."

Raph smirked, "If Mikey knew about tha food, he'd be dying to meet ya!"

Cally giggled, "He likes to eat?"

Raph nodded.

Cally stood abruptly. "I got to go."

"Already?" Raph frowned, standing up as well.

"I have to pack."

"Oh…" Raph suddenly pulled her into another hug.

After he let go, Cally frowned. She didn't felt destiny's bridge coming.

Destiny can't paint all beauty. There's always a bridge linking the beauty to something even more beautiful. It comes in all different parts of its stories and always has an end that brings something even more beautiful than what there was in the beginning. Sometimes there isn't an end, but it's because of us. People are afraid of the bridge. They're afraid of the strife and struggles that lay on the bridge. They don't know what's on the other side, we never do. But we pretend to be satisfied by what we have and we stay that way, refusing to face our troubles until we are forced onto the bridge and then have to work our way across.

"What was that for?" Cally asked.

"Just in case."

"Oh, okay," Her heart did a double take for her friend. What if she never saw him again?

"I'll- uh- see you later," Raph turned and went down the fire escape ladders down to his home.

"See ya," Cally murmured. She doubted her words. Cally was almost sure she wouldn't see him again.

Cally walked to the cold, black door, opening it, she slowly walked into the staircase. As she closed the door, she somehow knew that she was leaving behind her best friend. But destiny always knows what it's doing.


	6. Little Hope

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_**And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation. ~**__Khalil Gibran_

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_**"The two have been separated by a great distance," the leader commented quietly.

"What shall we do now? Why did we not see this coming?" the doubtful gave his input.

"You know that I can only see limitedly into the future," the wise replied.

"Yes, if you had more power we would not have been over thrown in the first place," the doubtful gave a hot word back.

"If I could see any more than I do then you know that we would control the world like a puppet and not rule it," the wise kept his temper.

"We don't even rule it anymore, if you haven't noticed," the doubtful raised his voice, but he was met by just an airy silence.

"So what did you see?" The peacekeeper asked gently, speaking to the wise.

"I did see that there was some obstacle coming into play but I supposed that it was what we thought it would be from the beginning," the wise said shamefully.

"Well, we could have done nothing of it. Just because we see does not mean that we can manipulate, especially if we do not know what the problem is yet," the peacekeeper spoke to the others.

"True," the doubtful sighed.

"But I do see something else," the wise brightened.

"What?" the leader spoke with excitement.

"Something brighter is coming through the way for us. I cannot tell what as you know, but it is good and I know that," the wise spoke out for everyone.

"We must hope that it will drastically benefit us, because I am afraid that our link to Maysa is gone," the leader spoke.

A murmur of agreement came across the others.

"What if it doesn't? What if our plan is a failure?" the uninvited began to sound more like the doubtful.

"Still, we must try to come back. If we simply sit back we are failures then."

"Then what are we now?"

"Simply put: prisoners to our own dethronement."

* * *

The next night, Cally was sitting on her new bed, fiddling with the flashlight, turning it in her hands. Emptiness crept up and filled her chest creating an almost hallow feeling. When people lose something, a void is created in the soul. It's felt within the mind and it will stay that way until something else fills it or we bury it. But some things are easier to bury than others.

It had been a long car ride; a really, really long car ride. Cally walked over to her window and opened it. It was an odd window almost like two windows put together. Each had a handle on it and could be swung open like double doors. It was a fitting window for the two story ranch house-well, if a bonus room counted as a second story. The house was a bright yellow- the shade that brightens a rainy day- that beautifully contrasted against the green world around her and matched the sky during the daytime in any kind of weather. The bonus room was Cally's, so it was easy for her to see the landscape. The house sat in a clearing of grass with a driveway that led up to the garage that sat rather to the left of the house. Trees surrounded the house like a wall against the outside world and drops and rises in the land around the surrounding areas created slopes- the kind that attract sleds and children during a good snow.

But Cally didn't care about the beauty like she normally would have. She was too concerned about her missing friend. A tear ran down her cheek as she looked over her new surroundings. Her drive way that led deeper into the temporary terrors of the forest was the only sign of hope for her.

Her mother was a baker, but not in the city. Same with her father being a sheriff. A small town- Hikeshire- grew about ten miles away where both her parents worked during the day. Both had taken the day off that day to help Cally settle in so she hadn't seen it yet, but her mom told that she would being going to work when she did. Cally was promised to make lots of friends. And maybe she would, since they didn't know her history; but Cally didn't _want_ other friends, she wanted hers. It was like a picky child that lost their balloon; but they don't want just any balloon, they want theirs.

Cally's parents also helped her decorate her room. They had bought lots of paint cans with all different colors so that Cally could choose which she wanted to have her room painted. She chose red. Her mother had smiled and said like roses, but that wasn't why Cally chose the color red. They hadn't painted her room yet, because if they did Cally wouldn't be able to sleep in her room.

Her room was a rectangle with the window in the middle of the front wall-one of the long walls-, facing the front wall and over the front porch roof to where if one wanted, they could climb out the window and lay there to see the millions of stars that painted the solid black sky or watch the clouds on a clear day. Her bed sat the right of the window and shelves lined the walls that would be filled with stuffed animals that her parents had bought for her after the room was painted. But some of them were meant to go to their own child that was never born. Books of pictures and chapters decorated a tall bookshelf. And a toy box sat in a corner. For now, it was rather plain but her parents promised more.

Cally was her new parent's filling for the void made by their unborn child. After its death, her mother was no longer able to have children which scarred bother her parents. It was a scar that would not heal but could be helped. They loved Cally with a parent's love and the love that had been meant for their real child.

Cally remembered her promise. How could she not? One doesn't forget about something when they think about what it was based around. Her promise was based around Raphael and that was exactly who she was thinking of. So Cally held up a flashlight that sat her hand. She pointed it at the trees and turned it on and five seconds passed, then she turned it off. Two more times of doing this and Cally burst into tears. She bent her head into her folded arms and broke down.

When people cry, their minds slur, but emotions become sharp. It's a mix of being drunk and high at the same time but the body is still under control and thoughts are dysfunctional. The problem is strangled and twisted as tears come with anger, confusion, or just simply more misery. For Cally, it was more misery. Her thoughts were dysfunctional, wishing she hadn't been adopted, wishing that she was still at the orphanage, but if all these came true they would be begged to be taken back. But she couldn't have her cake and eat it too, not matter how badly she wanted to. That's the issue with us. We think we can have this _and_ more but the truth is that a lot of life is either or.

Cally's grip on the flashlight loosened and it escaped her hand. The flashlight rolled down the rough black shingles of the small front porch roof and landed with a "klunk" into the gutter that ran the length of the roof. Cally looked up and at the flashlight with a frown, tears still pouring out of her dark green eyes and onto her rather pale skin. The skin around her eyes was red and puffy and her breathing came in sniffs as her crying slowly subsided. _Why?_

"I'm sorry!" She cried out, wishing the wind could carry her message into the city. Though the wind should be able to, should it not? It carries things so much heavier than our words such as leaves or pieces of trash that people neglected to pick up. And perhaps it does and we just don't hear it, perhaps the wind separates our message too badly for anyone to hear it. But the trees instead echoed her words back to her like a mailman returning a letter that couldn't make it.

Raphael's words echoed in her head. _"Do it every night?"_ Cally couldn't do that if the flashlight stayed in the gutter and instead of getting it in the morning she decided to get it right then. She crossed her heart with her finger.

"I'll miss you," Cally whispered this time so that it couldn't be returned and even though the message couldn't be heard by living ears, it was out there.

Cally slipped out to sit on the window sill with her legs hanging out and her feet on the black shingles. Slowly and cautiously, she slipped out the window onto the roof. She turned to face downward, a dangerous position but at least the shingles gave some friction. The shingles were rough and scraped her hands every time she slid them down the slant but Cally was afraid she would fall if she lifted her hands from the surface. Luckily, she was wearing pajama pants so her legs were protected. And even though it was nighttime, the heat of the summer day still seethed from the shingles.

When Cally was arm's length away from the flashlight she grabbed out and snatched it. Turning around, Cally climbed back up the slant of the roof and got back to the window sill. She was feeling a bit better, more optimistic through a child's view. Cally presumed that her parents couldn't keep her here. She could ride her new blue bike that was waiting for her in the garage to New York City and she would visit Raphael and come home before her parents noticed. Cally was a child and children sometimes suppose that their plans of pure imagination can in fact become true whether its fighting dragons in a tree or riding a cardboard rocket to the moon.

Cally grabbed the window sill and with confidence stood up on her feet. A mistake it was and Cally lost balance and tried to adjust herself but it did nothing and she toppled backwards, rolling down and off the roof. The fall took her stomach and she desperately reached for the gutter. Cally's fingers skimmed it but did not manage to grasp the edge. A searing pain instantly whipped through her body as she hit the ground. Darkness flooded her mental state but it ended with a question: _Will I ever see Raph again?_


	7. Changed

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"_**Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live." **__~Norman Cousins_

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_**"I told you they would betray us," the doubtful hissed.

"I did not see this at all," the wise murmured, sounding stunned.

"But they did not use them to even bring back their leader. It shows how insolent they are," the peacemaker mused.

"They did bring back their leader. They sold the five jewels for money which they can use to pay to bring back their leader. They did not need the jewels to bring back their leader," the leader informed. "Never did. Don't any of you know this? The Shredder still lives now. He simply waits for his armor to return. Yet we are the ones who led him and his colony here to Earth. We are the ones who showed him how to build the armor. Maysa may have been able to use the jewels, but Shredder had a direct link to us. He did not need the jewels to be able to communicate with us. Like Maysa, he is a reincarnation, but he has the same goal still. To take this world. And now he has a stronger armor. It was brought down once before but he plans to reinforce it to fit his needs."

"What shall we do now?" the wise consulted, which was rare.

"Wait."

"What about Maysa?" the doubtful inquired.

"We cannot use her. Do you forget that she is but a child? If we try to use her now, she will probably either be hurt or get scared," the wise told the doubtful.

"So we will wait until she is fifteen, that is how old she was when she came to power," the leader commented. "And her advisors will be sixteen, the age of which they were when they came to power under Maysa at the same time she came to rule."

Maysa had met her four advisors under strange circumstances. Just before she came to rule, the annual gladiator's festival was happening. Here, champions from all over the world would come to test their skill, if it was not good enough, they died. It was a fight to the death. Four strange creatures came from a neighboring country of Maysa's own. Their trainer who was but a farmer said he had found them, all four sick from the plague. Earlier in time they had shown their skills through silent stealing of poultry or an occasional bovine so the farmer knew that he could get his money lost in their steals through this competition. So he chained them and nursed them back to health. Then, still chained, the four were forced to be brought to the fight for the prize money. Even though against the rules, all four were able to enter because of the crowd's desire to see these creatures fight.

One of these creatures wielded two slim swords, katanas, as they were called in some countries, the second skilled with sais, the third a bo staff, and the fourth nunchuks. And all four held the name "the turtle men." In the ring, the four refused to fight when only one was placed in the fight and could still be perfectly safe by simply flipping over and dodging their opponent, so all four were placed together. Maysa was forced to watch as royalty always had to. Normally, she disliked the blood-spill and everything else, but she was intrigued by the four's companionship, especially when there were no more opponents and they refused to fight each other. She knew she was coming into power and had to pick an advisor, so she stopped the fight and took the four under her wing to be her advisors. Their wisdom held her kingdom together even after they left for a journey from which they never returned, she ruled her country with their wisdom.

"So we just sit and wait like ducks in a pond until she becomes of age?" the uninvited sounded skeptical.

"It is all we can do," the lead voice replied.

* * *

Raph sat, hugging his knees to his chest, lifelessly. It had been a week. It had been a long week. It had been a long, miserable week, since he had seen Cally. He had searched most of the city every night, but his search was fruitless. Raphael had looked everywhere he could; he looked in every window from the tops of buildings but still nothing. He had looked for a flashing light three times every five seconds for his best friend but he never found her.

As Raphael sat in the corner, his brothers watched from a distance. They didn't know what to do. Leonardo had come around earlier and asked what was wrong. Raph's answer was, "None of ya business." And because Leo assumed that Raph was upset because of something small, he gave up thinking that Raphael would get over himself later-but he didn't. Donatello asked Raph if he wanted to be the first to try the antenna he finally got to pick up channels, but Raphael ignored him. And after a long while, Michelangelo came over to Raph's corner and asked if he wanted to play a game. Raphael chased him off and went back to his corner. Even Master Splinter tried to consult his son, but like everyone else, could get nothing out of Raph.

All Raphael did was sit in his corner. Master Splinter excused him from training out of concern, his normally physical son was now but an emotional lump and for the first time since he had begun to father the four, he could not find the source of trouble. A lot of people do that when they're upset so it was nothing new. When our world crashes, we don't act like ourselves. We're a lump of emotions. A mix of anger and sadness towards the trouble takes over our souls if we don't know how to overcome things quickly.

After a few days of sadness, it had turned to anger. Raphael felt used and abused. He felt like he had fallen for something. He had become short tempered and easily aggravated. Master Splinter was right, he thought. The world won't truly accept him, not one piece of it. Cally kept him for the bad to comfort him, then when her life turned around, she didn't need her freak friend anymore; or at least that's how it went in his head.

Raph's biggest problem and why he couldn't get over it was because he had no one to vent to. People need to vent when they go through a tough time. To just let it all out. It helps a lot, but Raphael didn't have that. If anyone knew what he was up to, he would be in so much trouble he'd be in trouble till he died or Master Splinter died. And Raph- just like the rest of his brothers- hoped that Master Splinter wouldn't die before he did.

The sadness and anger switched places every once and a while they would mush together. The mix of emotions effected Raphael's stomach to where he could not eat or hold down food much. He began to lose weight and Master Splinter became extremely worried. He would manage to get Raphael to hold down soft foods like bread, tea, or bananas, and he would get Raph to eat at every meal whether it would hold or not.

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After a month of misery Raph finally woke from his temporary death. He was easily ticked at things that he used to accept. Michelangelo for a while could not call Raphael 'Raphy' without getting a good pummeling, Leonardo could never tell Raph what to do without being turned on, and Donatello could borrow nothing of Raph's for experimenting without being screamed at. He was told that he wasn't always this easily snapped and Raph remembered not being as hot-headed but he couldn't remember why he changed. Master Splinter still did not know what had caused a sudden change in his son but began to help him learn how to control his anger.

Raphael also hardened towards what the world thought of him. He became less self-conscious of what he was. If they didn't like him, well, then it was their own problem. Raph knew that someone caused that change but he couldn't remember who, all he knew was that he was changed.


	8. Part 2: The Return

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_**Change brings opportunity. **__~Nido Qubein_

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_Maysa looked out the window of her sitting room and sighed. From the window, if she reached out, nothing would ever stop her from touching the soft azaleas that drifted about in the soft wind. She wondered what she was going to do.

It was almost time for her to come to power. Her father had died two months ago of a fatal plague that had ravished the country of its citizens. Her mother was too weak and frail to take over a broken country and it was now Maysa's duty to build it back up. But she had no one that she trusted to rule with her. Her father had taught her again and again that no sole person can run a country because no sole person has all the answers. He had told her that every good leader has advisors that they trust with their life and to make good decisions. A tear came to her eye as she thought about her noble leader, her loving father.

As she wiped the tear away, Maysa thought of candidates for her advisors. There were her father's old advisors but perhaps it wouldn't be wise to recycle advisors. They had been her father's and were used to her father's decisions, not hers. They would expect her to be exactly like her father. There was also her mother but she could not bring her emotions with her to her throne. Maysa needed someone faithful, noble, undoubted, and most of all someone that she could trust.

"Mistress?" Her servant Dalia called from the doorway warily. She had long blonde hair pulled into a tight bun upon her head with hazel eyes that followed the ground humbly.

"Yes?" Maysa answered, melancholy.

"The dresser requests your presence to fit you for a dress to wear to the gladiator's festival," Dalia replied meekly.

"The gladiator's festival?"

"Yes, ma'am. Remember, you must attend in your father's place since you are to come into power."

"Oh, yes, of course," Maysa stood from her cushioned chair and followed Dalia out. Those in power had to watch the gladiators festival for they were the mediators for this event. The mediator decided what happened and had to follow no rules except that one person in the ring had to die. People came from countries around to either enter their champion or watch for the bloody enjoyment. As for Maysa she disliked the festival with passion and so did her father but they could not stop it from happening as it was law that one leader could not take back a law that another had made. She thought it cruel and inhumane to watch people kill each other.

And now, Maysa wanted to be thinking of her bigger issues rather than a violent festival. She had no idea what she was going to do about advisors and she had three weeks to decide. The festival was a week away.

* * *

It'd been six years since I'd see Raphael, but that hadn't stopped me from remembering him. I never got over leaving him and it wouldn't surprise me if he hated me for me leaving him. Raph was my best friend and I probably wouldn't have parents right now if it weren't for him. But I left him.

I faintly remembered my life at the orphanage. I remembered wanting to be loved and feeling lonely. I remembered how happy I was to finally have a friend. But most of all, I remembered my friend. I wanted to find him and I wasn't that far out of the possibility.

My mother's bakery had become famous, so we had all moved to New York City, just a month prior. After I finally finished unpacking, I ran down the stairs that connected the apartment to the bakery. Unpacking is the worst of anything. I've always wished that someone would make something that would unpack everything for you. My mom's been nagging me about it too. Every time I'm not unpacking it's always, "Why aren't you unpacking? It's taking you forever."

As I stood at the opening in between the staircase to our apartment and the shop, the smell of cinnamon rolls drifted under my nose, dragging me through the bakery into the kitchen. The bakery was closed since it was only eight. My mom refuses to open till eleven because she says a lunch crowd is better than a breakfast crowd.

"Mom!" I called, swinging open the double push doors that kept the kitchen away from the bakery. I slowly breathed in the scent. The kitchen smelled like flour, baking, and cinnamon rolls. My mom made a lot more than cinnamon rolls. She made cupcakes, cakes and everything else bakers make, but the cinnamon rolls are the reason we're in New York City. They've won contests and pleased the most dignified people. No joke. We sent a box of cinnamon rolls to the vice president when he was in town just last week. They're that good.

"Your mother had to run some errands," a deep yet mellow voice replied. He stood over the oven, obviously watching the cinnamon rolls bake. If he let them burn, my mom would kill him.

"Oh," I frowned, this early? "But since when did mom let you make the cinnamon rolls, Kyle?" I was joking, of course, my mom would never let anyone- not even me- touch the recipe. The only people to have ever seen it is my dad and my grandmother who passed away three years ago of lung cancer.

Kyle worked for the bakery ever since we came to New York City. Normally, he was at the counter; but since we weren't open yet he worked in the kitchen, washing the platter dishes used for displaying the breads and cakes in the glass counter. His real name was Kyle Huffshmidt, so for obvious reasons, I called him Kyle. Even though my mother said anyone eighteen or over when you're not is a mister, miss, or misses, I still call him that.

Kyle laughed; brushing some auburn hair out of his light brown eyes, only to have it fall back. "You know how protective your mother is about her cinnamon rolls recipe. She put them in the oven before she left. I'm just in charge of making sure they don't burn."

I stared hungrily at the giant oven, made to hold trays of food. Would mom bother to count? They would be cold by the time she got back. I wanted one. She wouldn't let me have more than one a day, sometimes less than that. If you haven't figured this out already, my mom is very strict and rather old fashioned. I still love her but she's your typical mother.

I looked at Kyle as his laugh filled the kitchen again. "Yes," He said with a grin, "your mother said you could have one when they're done."

I smiled; it was a rumor, a true rumor, that my mom made the best cinnamon rolls in the whole city.

"She's a bit worried about you though," Kyle frowned thoughtfully, peeking in the oven at the rolls.

"Why?" I was surprised. My mother tended to worry over my manners and such, but never over me in general unless I was sick. I wasn't the kind of person to go off doing crazy stuff and she knew it.

"Said you look like you're dreaming or out of it most of the time, since you came here and something about a weird drawing," Kyle shrugged lightly. Kyle never worried. Ever. He smiled a lot and always seemed happy. It must be nice in the world of Kyle Huffshmidt.

"Oh," was the only response I could think of. I had been thinking of ways to find Raph. The weird drawing was probably the drawing I drew last night, trying to recall what he looked like, but unfortunately I had no artistic talent what so ever. It ended out as a deformed stick person. He said he lived in the sewers but you wouldn't catch me crawling down a manhole into that icky water. I hate toilets that haven't been flushed; I can't imagine tunnels filled the stuff from the toilets that have been flushed.

"If you ask me," Kyle muttered, walking over to the shelf to get an oven mitt. "The city air is getting to your head."

I just nodded, still thinking. I wasn't really paying attention to him. But I did hate the city air. How did I live with it when I was little?

"You'll get used to it, Calister." Kyle grinned at his pet name for me. He said it sounded like his favorite restaurant, McAlister's. I didn't like being named after a restaurant, but my mom told me it would be rude to complain.

"Maybe," I muttered, six years in the country air can really change a person's opinion about the city. I could almost see the filth in the air let alone smell it! It might not be as dirty as I think, but compared to the country it's disgusting.

"Do you miss the country?" Kyle asked as he opened the oven and reached in, pulling the tray of cinnamon rolls. He set them on a marble counter on a towel so that the hot pan wouldn't touch the counter.

"I miss the stars," I frowned, not feeling like going into detail. I did miss the country, everything about it. The room, the endless rows of trees, vast plots of grass, the clean air, the lack of people, the forest animals, _and_ the stars. I missed my friends from the country too. Alaina, Kristy, and Penny were my three best friends. I wasn't extremely social and neither were they so we got along perfectly. We were called the quiet bunch, which made us laugh because outside of school we wouldn't shut up. We did everything together too. Mom said I could invite them over soon and they told me to, too. They thought it was awesome to get to live in the big city, but it's not all that and it doesn't come with the bag of chips either like everyone said it would. "All that and a bag of chips." Whatever. Well, the shops were nice. I thought I would check some out later.

Kyle just laughed. He always laughed at everything. I didn't think he meant to be rude. I just assumed it was what city people did. I probably would act like that too if I grew up in this cramped place. No wonder I had issues as a child. "I understand, Calister, I've seen millions of stars in the city…you just have to wait for a power outage."

I frowned, how long would that take? Even though I had better things to think about other than the stars, I didn't feel like thinking about those other 'things.' Truth be told, I had only been thinking about the country and Raph the last month. School would distract me if I had it now, but it was summer.

Then the scent of the cinnamon rolls caught me again. I smiled, glad to have something else to think about. I took a plate from the counter and reached for one as the steam rolled off of them. I snatched one quickly, hoping not to burn my fingers but I did. I shook my hand loosely to cool my fingers.

Kyle laughed-again- and I laughed with him this time. It makes me wonder if people ever get mad with someone laughing at everything. I could see a fight breaking out because an easily humored person laughed at something a hot-tempered person did and the hot-tempered person jumping on the humored person.

"Tell mom I said thanks!" I told Kyle as I walked out through the swinging kitchen doors.

I made sure to wave at a group of college students standing at the door reading the time sign with a look of disgust so that they would see me with my delicious cinnamon roll. I wonder if I would ever do that to people if Raph hadn't tried to scare me when we were little. It was kind of like that we were both messing with people. The college students started yelling at me to give them one but I just smiled and walked away.

I ran up the stairs, afraid my cinnamon roll would cool before I could eat it. I opened the door to our apartment with my spare hand and walked inside. I was glad that my parents had bought this thing because I doubted that a renter would let me have a pet. I wanted a turtle or a cat, whichever my parents obliged to.

Our apartment is a nice size. A four bedroom with a full bath, kitchen, and living area. A hall, opening from a little empty space between the den and kitchen, held the rooms. One of the extra two rooms was my TV room. The other room is my dad's "library". It isn't a library to me. I'd call it an 'investigative room', since he uses it to study crime evidence and such. And there's a coat closet too, right next to the hall in the kitchen.

I opened the second door the left, my TV room, with one hand, the plate in the other. My TV room's almost like a playroom, I guess. But what 15 year old has a playroom? There's a TV on an old wooden nightstand I no longer use with a wii beside it. There's a blue bean bag in the middle of the floor, on my rainbow circular carpet. I thought to add more when I invite friends over. On the opposite wall of the TV there's a set of shelves covered with a collection of CD's from over six years. Below it is a stereo system I got for my birthday. Before that, it was a regular CD player. There's not much, but it looks nice against the light green walls.

I set the plate beside the bean bag before I flumped down into it. Then I picked up the roll and took a big bite. The frosting and stray cinnamon began to cover my finger, and the hot roll burned my tongue, but I loved it. To me, that's the pure joy factors of a cinnamon roll. I slowly ate it layer by layer.

Since I was by myself I decided to think about these other 'things.' I remembered we used to talk every night. I smiled. He was- or my name for it- a turtle-boy. He had a mask that covered from his nose, around and over his head in line. Was it orange or red? I frowned. He was cute too. Raph wasn't cute to me when I was little but now when I think about a little turtle boy I think it's cute. I wonder if he grew any. It'd be kind of awkward if he were still three feet tall.

I sighed. Would he even remember me? He might be mad at me for leaving him. The thought crossed my mind again.

Bored, upset, and tired of thinking of the subject already, I shoved the last bite of the cinnamon roll into my mouth and cleaned my fingers of frosting. And no I didn't waste the frosting by not eating it.

I leaned back into my bean bag and sighed, staring at the speckled grey and black against white ceiling.

Even though I had been asking myself the same question for six years, I couldn't help but think at least one more time: Would I ever see Raph again?

But maybe, he was just my imagination. It'd been so long and I had such a vivid imagination that maybe I made him up when I was little. And now I just thought he was real for some odd reason. But even so, maybe Raphael is real and maybe I can find my best friend.


	9. Lost Pieces

**Edited. **

**Reviews are luved!**

* * *

_**There is just one life for each of us: our own.**__ ~Euripides_

* * *

Randolf squirmed uncomfortably, cramped in the back of a covered wagon. His brothers and he were all in this wagon much too small for all four of them. The chains at his ankles pinched and he could hear his youngest brother Macabeth's soft breathing beside him. The farmer that had captured them insisted on covering the wagon and traveling overnight so that they would reach their destination faster.

"Awake, Randolf?" His eldest brother Lysander asked quietly, careful not to wake their younger brothers.

"How could I not be?" was his reply. "Where do you think we're going, Lysander?" He asked hesitantly.

"I have no idea. Most likely somewhere this cursed farmer can make money off of us. You know he wants vengeance for us stealing his livestock," Lysander replied lowly.

A soft moan came from the corner. "Brothers?" A waking Democritus murmured.

"You shouldn't be awake, Democritus," Lysander told him softly.

"Something bad is going to happen isn't it?" Democritus asked warily.

"We don't know," Randolf answered. "But if anyone tries to harm any of my brothers they shall not get away with it," He added hotly.

"Do not let your anger get ahead of you," Lysander told him patiently. "How does the weather look for tomorrow, Democritus? Perhaps we shall try to escape, bad weather would be preferred. The farmer would most likely be hesitant to follow us in a storm."

"The sky said for good weather tomorrow," Democritus answered sadly.

"Do we still have the stick for picking the lock of these chains?" Lysander asked.

"Yes."

"We'll just have to be patient then." Lysander sounded worried as thought waiting would only bring more trouble.

"Things wouldn't be like this if this world was how it was when the five ruled," Randolf sighed.

"And perhaps it wouldn't be."

"You'd think these filthy humans would have more respect for the ones that helped take down The Shredder."

"Do not bite the hand that feeds you!" Lysander snapped. Macabeth still snored, a heavy sleeper he was.

"They do not feed us! They would kill us if they knew we existed and we're probably going to be if we don't get away!" Randolf shot back.

"Still, we depend on them for food and supplies and you know it," Lysander argued. "Remember what Silvanus told us."

"Where is Silvanus?" Randolf's voice softened.

"Another thing we do not know, brother," Lysander told him gently.

"He told us to come and find him," Democritus said.

"When will that be?" Macabeth said sleepily.

"He said we would know when," Lysander assured.

* * *

"Baseball teams too!" I frowned, gesturing at the TV with my hand. I was watching a baseball game with two of my brothers- Donatello and Michelangelo.

"Just like the football teams." my brother, Donatello, shrugged. He didn't really care, but it made me mad like a lot of things did.

I sniffed and turn back the TV screen as number 24 slid to home plate in a cloud of dirt. I was sort of glad they didn't have it in baseball because I never liked the striped uniforms. They looked wimpy. Now football uniforms are cool. They make the players look buffer than they are.

"There's the Gators football team in Florida." My youngest brother, Michelangelo, suggested.

I snorted. "I meant turtles." I shot back without turning away from the screen. I wanted to see a sport team with a turtle as a mascot. Preferably football.  
"Well, since you used the general term, reptiles, we presumed you meant any reptile." Don had an amused tone to his voice, as he talked in his genius language.

"Hmph." I didn't pay attention since 35 and 16 of different teams were putting out fists at 35's dugout. The referee was running over and it disappointed me. It would be nice to see some blood and pounding in this sport.

Donatello, aka: Don is the genius of the four of us. Yes, there's four; the forth one, also the only one older than me is Leonardo, or Leo. I've always wanted to be better than him; though I doubt I'll ever be. I still try though. Then the youngest, Michelangelo- or Mikey- is of course the jokester; if he's serious it's either rarely, or he's sick. He's always making up lines, like you hear in movies, the ones that everyone quotes - or so he tries. Actually, he's pretty funny, at the right times. I guess you could say he's the light of the group. There's also a fifth one of us. Master Splinter, he trains us. Don, Mikey, Leo, and I are ninjas in training.

"Wow!" The sports announcer exclaimed. "Tommy James is having quite the comeback! Who woulda thought that he could play like that! It's like he's added to himself!"

Added to himself. I frowned, thinking back as the announcer rambled on at how Tommy used to be. I had been told I once 'added to myself.' I wasn't always so hot-headed. I've always been easily angered but it became extreme when I was younger. Nine or ten, I think. But who cares. I remembered no reason, no reason at all. It was just like I woke up one day with a new level to my personality. That's not the way my brothers said it happened. They said I looked like I was half-dead for a month, and wouldn't talk. They didn't know what happened either. It was like a part of my life had been completely erased. Master Splinter doesn't talk about it and the one time I asked about it he rambled on for a moment and then changed the subject without answering my question. That wasn't like him so I knew something really weird happened.

"It's boring." Mikey sighed, waking me from my thoughts.

"What's borin'?" I asked with a grunt.

"We haven't done anything. No Purple Dragon, or Shredder." He frowned.

"That's a good thing, Mikey." Don pointed out, and I nodded in agreement. Yes, it was really boring around here. We thought that we had finally brought down Shredder once and for all, but he'd proven that he can come back before. Though it was strange that the Dragons hadn't tried anything lately, they hadn't tried a robbery, assault, nothing.

Mikey sighed, and simply slouched over even more, into a curve. Mike and his posture's just something else. That nut-job could be half limp across a pointed rock and still be comfortable.

"You'll ruin your posture," Don said, in a monotone voice, without bothering to glance at him. He had discovered a book somewhere around here- I'm beginning to think he has a stash in every room- and had stuck himself into it.

Mikey mumbled something but, sulking as he did, sat up. "Where's Leo anyways?" He inquired.

Don shrugged, so I felt forced to answer as he was still absorbed in the book. "Knowin' him," I sighed lazily, "he's probably out 'trainin'.'"

"Oh," was Mikey's only response. Leo was always out 'training.' Sometimes he would join us for something other than training but it wasn't all the time.

There was a silence as Mike and I turned back to the game and Donny kept up with his book.

"Who's winning?" The question was accompanied by the opening of sliding doors. It was Leo.

"Jays," Don said simply, but not rudely.

"13 to 10." Mikey added enthusiastically.

"I half expect Raph to say the losing team," Leo said, sounding amused.

"Ya only asked who was winnin'," I replied.

"Besides, Raphy's in his own world," Don replied calmly, using my rare nickname, "but no surprise there."

I said nothing, ignoring the conversation. Unfortunately, Mikey seemed to notice.

"I bet," He gushed with no humility to his voice (no shock), "his world is full of pretty ponies and fairies!" Then he burst into laughter. Don snickered a bit.

"Is not!" I shot up, turning on Mikey. "My world is your worst nightmare!"

"Theory or fact?" Don inquired teasingly. I shot him a glance, and the expression change told me he was out of the argument. Don never stays around for my arguments long. I think that brain of his does more for him than he thinks. That and Mike is the only person not really afraid of anger.

"Fairies can be scary," Mikey grinned. I felt my chest strain from refusing the urge to whip back my arm and thwack him. Donatello says that it's just that I react and Mike wants attention and all this blah blah blah crap. My explanation is much simpler: Mike is Mike.

"Then I can be terrifying," I growled. I scowled, I'm not sure if it was at Mikey or that I was just still resisting the urge not to beat him.

"No…not really," Mikey grinned bigger, laughing. His laughter broke it, my resistance was gone and I was fed up.

Leo obviously knew I was going to teach Mikey a lesson, because I was interrupted by: "Raph! Don't start another!" I guess he knew since my arm was going back to swing at that nut-job's head.

"So I'm the bad guy now am I? He started it!" I hollered. Yeah, at that point, Leo's 'guidance' was not what I needed. I would always say that really, but to admit it…in the deep dark abyss of my soul, I know I need it sometimes. But that is only in the deepest part of me.

"You know he only does it because it gets to you!" Ouch. I had no comeback for that one. He was using Don's own words against me. That hurt.

I snorted, sitting back down. I couldn't argue with that, but neither did I want to surrender to that.

"I've been thinking," Leo frowned, changing the subject, "that we should patrol tonight."

"Since when do we 'patrol'?" I asked, but was ignored. We actually patrol all the time- or used to. This was going to be the first time in a long time that we had gone patrolling.

"Why?" Don asked, looking up from his book. We sounded lazy for a bunch of ninjas, but the city had become quiet lately and all but Leo had gotten used to it. Hey, on our off hours, we're teenagers. Don does his 'techy' thing, Mike's got video games, I've got – ahem – magazines…and I don't think Leo has any off hours.

"Because I think Shredder's holding back on us for a reason…" Leo crossed his arms, looking at the ceiling, giving off to thought.

"So we're going to go find him?" I frowned. "Not a good idea." I knew Leo knew better than to go find the Shredder, but I felt annoyed suddenly and decided to poke his ego. I guess I was still kind of brushed off from the earlier thing so I decided to brush him off.

"No, well yes, but we're only going to look for suspicious actions." That didn't work, so I gave up. Leo doesn't normally react to my pokes like I do to his. Maybe I do react better than I think I do.

"Crud…I at least want to pound someone tonight." I yawned, stretching. That's another thing I got, I like pounding people that deserve to be pounded. Let's leave it at that.

"You might," Don shrugged. My violent personality was common, so it didn't shock anyone.

"Depends on who or what we find," Leo added, placing his hands on the back of the couch and leaning forward. To most, it would be uncommon for teenagers to be talking of looking for crime in such a casual way; but to us, it's life. When we were younger, we didn't have to fight, but Master Splinter taught us for self-defense in case anyone found us. Ironic thing was, just about everyone we've met we found, they didn't find us. It's funny really if you ask me.

"I just hope it's someone just a little challenging," I sighed.

"Like the Purple Dragons?" Mikey asked, looking at me.

"Yeah," I grinned, "that'd be great."

The Shredder and the Purple Dragons are enemies. Like I said, we're ninjas. The Shredder's a big metal man. Well, actually he's a man with a metal suit. He has these three blades on either glove. They remind me of the ones of Wolverine off X-Men. He has a ninja army, so you would think he would be too. Well, he's not. The Shredder claims he is, but he's just a lunatic who wants to rule the world…or something like that. Anyone in his way he'll kill, or try to. He's no succeeded with us yet though. He's got allies too, like the Purple Dragons. They're violent crazy-heads in for the money. We're always picking with them for picking on others. You can always find them by the purple dragon tattoo they have. They have a lot of people and strength, but no brain.

I cracked my knuckles, I couldn't wait. I hoped tonight, we'd catch a few. I don't care whether my personality changed mysteriously, I'm me for now, or at least who I want to be. Though I wonder what I'm missing that created what I have.


	10. Memories

**Edited**

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"_**As long as one keeps searching, the answers come" **_**~Joan Baez**

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"When is my deadline?" Maysa asked her father's advisors as she sat from her throne, looking about at the five of them who circled her chair.

When she was little, these men had frightened her by their strangeness. Only one of the five spoke aloud, the other four simply whispered amongst themselves and then whisper to the one who would tell what they had decided. The only one to speak stood in the middle, bearing the name of Hetite.

"By the sunset of the day after the festival is when your advisors must be decided," Hetite answered. Emotion had long sense been beaten out of his face and he looked upon Maysa with a dead cold stare. If he did not move or breathe, this man would be mistaken for dead. His ice white hair that skimmed his shoulders only added to the pale dead look of him.

"Very well," Maysa replied. She stood and walked across the stone floor, her bare feet hidden under layers of flowing skirts that moved with her. One would say that skirts that long would put off their balance, but Maysa had been accustomed to them since she was small. The brown hair that usually hung about her face had been pulled back tightly to flow along with the hair that came down her back, held together by a red lily hair décor. It was a gift from her father before he passed.

Maysa exited her throne room and walked down a graciously decorated hall. Paintings had been hung about the walls and where there was no painting there was a wall decoration or a statue. She came soon to an opening and pushed back the curtain and stepped into her viewing room. Glass was rare and expensive, but in this room, all the walls were made of glass so that one could see out of it at any angle except facing towards the door.

It was Maysa's favorite room. The only furniture in the whole place was a chair that sat in the middle of the room and a table to hold food and such beside the chair. She walked up the chair and set herself down into the cushion. On the other side of the windows laid a garden. Cherry blossom trees swayed in the breeze and the daffodils followed the tree's dance. Many different flowers and assorted colors were splashed about the garden. Stone walkways webbed across the lot, creating no specific pattern. A wall of brick circled the garden so that seeing out or in was impossible. Guards walked the top to ward off possible intruders.

A proud hill thrust itself higher than the wall and over it led a dirt road for travelers. A wagon rattled and jostled over it, making its way into the town. A worn down mule drug the wagon forward and a farmer just as worn – if not more – than the mule walked beside the animal. Maysa frowned. It was no doubt containing a champion for the gladiator's festival. How Maysa dreaded the festival. She hated the blood and the thirst of her people and other's people to see more. It sickened her to see such a desire in her own land.

Maysa honestly wished to ban the festival completely, but her father said: "You cannot ban something that a mass of people enjoy, just because you despise it. All you will do is stir dissension up in your nation." She could come up with a whole score of reasons why the festival should be banned, but the gladiators rather wished to die than to lose and if they did then so be it.

Besides, Maysa had larger things to worry of than the gladiator's festival. She let out an exasperated sigh and began to think of how to find a well fitted group of advisors for herself. To simply run messengers to find possible candidates would do no good. Maysa had to be able to trust them with her life, and she knew none that she fully did. If Maysa did not choose advisors then Hetite would take the throne and Maysa did not trust him one bit with her country. Her father provided a necessity for her country that Hetite did not: love. That's what Maysa wanted to give to her country just as much as her father.

* * *

"Cally!"

My eyes flashed open at my mother's voice. I stretched out in my bean bag and let out a big yawn. I tend to fall asleep if I stay in one place too long after a cinnamon roll. They're just so good and make me feel all warm inside. My mom always nags me about morning naps and how sleeping too much is bad, but I never listen.

"Yes?" I yawned, looking over at my mother in the door. Her short, curly and bright red hair she kept bobbed. All the pictures she's showed me of her, even as a child, she kept it short. She's stout, but not to wear she looks over weight. But what kind of good baker is skinny? I mean have you ever seen a super model shaped cook? I'm just as tall as she is as well. Being only five foot five, I fear her attitude towards me being taller than her. The funny thing is that we share the same nose, even though I'm adopted.

"Did you finish unpacking?" my mother sounded rushed. She swept a piece of her red hair out of her face and looked at me. She looked exasperated which meant it must at least be eleven thirty and that New York City was a very hungry place.

"Yes, Mom." I sighed, sitting up in the bean-bag chair. I was pretty much done. All I had left was a box in my closet with a bunch of winter clothes, but it was summer so there was no point.

"Alright," my mother replied before turning out the door.

I laid back and stretched again. Mom is always busy in the bakery when it's open. Some restaurants have rush hours. We have rush weeks. Even back in the country, people would drive there from the city to get something. People sometimes come in and thank her for moving into town, and they cannot leave without a cinnamon roll at least. My mom sells really good cakes and whatnot too, but people mostly come for the cinnamon rolls, which sometimes entices them to buy a cake or a cupcake. Those are really good too, and we do sell a good amount of them, but the cinnamon rolls rule our bakery.

I glanced at the clock. It was five in the afternoon. I sighed, I had slept through lunch. That was my fault. Mom was too busy to make sure I was eating and Dad should just be getting home if it was a good day. I had stayed up late watching a marathon of horror movies and found myself unable to sleep when I decided I was done. My fault again.

A knock on the open door made me look up. My dad stood there, still in his brown sheriff uniform. His brown hair was swept away from his face with a bit of gel, and his tall figure blocked the doorway. He, unlike most sheriffs is clean shaven. I like clean shaven, stubble is gross and I think a beard would look weird on him.

"Hi, Daddy." I smiled, using my best-little-girl-in-the-world voice.

"Hi there, miss," he replied, his thin lips drawing back into a thin grin.

Dad only called me miss when he had something for me to do. I'm his right hand sidekick – or at least that's the way I see it. I have bragging rights. "What's my mission now, Sheriff?" I inquired, sitting up.

"Well, I'm sure that you are well aware that your mother is very busy with her bakery and I am very busy with my work as well." he placed his hands on his hips. "And we've basically run out of groceries and neither of have time to go. And not enough home cooking can do things to a man." he patted his stomach playfully and I giggled. My dad wasn't exactly lean but neither was he over weight though he did have a bit that hung over his pants.

"So you want me to cook?" I inquired. I've never been much of a cook - or one at all. I can't make toast without burning it. See, I'm easily distracted so even though the timer is going off by the time I remember to check it, it's black burnt.

"No, I need to drop off a case file at the court down the street from the grocery store, and you're going to get the groceries." Dad smiled.

"Do I get to make the list?" I asked eagerly.

Dad laughed, obviously remembering I would circle everything I wanted, and not what we needed. "No," he pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket on his brown shirt, the one with his sheriff badge. "Here's the list, from Mom."

I took it from him carefully, like the criminal taking information from the spy. I enjoy playing at our games and this 'miss' didn't completely trust this sheriff. Dad and I played these games since I was little. I was always the mysterious miss that secretly was the sheriff's right hand man, but sometimes my character doesn't completely trust the sheriff. I opened it and read over it.

_Carrots  
Broccoli  
Asparagus  
Milk  
Juice  
Bread  
Peanut Butter  
Eggs  
Apples  
Pears  
Grape/Peach Jelly  
Spaghetti  
Green Beans  
*Cally, don't get anything that is not on this list! Love, Mom-_

I frowned at the last note. She knew I would grab a bag or two of candy or a box of Poptarts. I had done it before with Mom. I'd sneak it into the cart while she wasn't looking, but she always figured it out at the cash register. Hey I can try can't I?

Dad laughed again. "Well," he smiled, "if you need police escort, I would be more than happy, miss."

I smiled, I loved the police car. I liked to sit in the back and pretend to be a criminal which was fun. Sometimes, we got to chase a speeder and Dad lets me turn on the lights and siren. Though if it's a real criminal I'm not allowed to go, Dad would drop me off first or have to call in for backups to take over.

"Of course, how kind," I replied, continuing the game.

"Very well, come with me." he smiled, walking out the door.

I got up, stretched once more, and followed him out.

Walking down the stairs to the bakery, the voices of people devoured the silence. Laughter and joyful voices filled the bakery and the stairway. As usual, it was busy. About dinner time is our busiest. Cinnamon rolls are good desert. Whether those people eat them before or after, who am I to judge?

"Fresh ones!" Kyle's voice rang out, causing the voices to rise. People filled the bakery. Some examined cakes; but most were in line, waiting for a cinnamon roll. I walked over to Mom; who had turned away, to take the tray of "fresh ones", or hot cinnamon rolls.

"Mom?" I inquired, trying to sound as sweet as possible. I was beginning to feel hungry, having not eaten lunch, and the smell of the cinnamon rolls was not helping.

"You've already had on today." she said without even turning my way as she traded a fresh one for a couple bills to the customer in front with a wide smile.

No hope, I frowned. "Looks like you got a lot of customers." I smiled, changing the subject. Maybe if I broke some ice, I could have one for dessert after dinner.

"Just dinner rush." my mom smiled back exhaustedly. "It'll slow down soon." She traded again with the next person and added a thank you.

"Well, I got to go," I said. I waved at Dad to tell him I was coming. He stood by the doorway out of everyone's way, with that impatient look for me on his face.

"Okay, no Poptarts," Mom smiled; trading. Soon, all those fresh ones would be gone only to be replaced. 'Fresh ones' usually only lasted about fifteen sometimes thirty minutes.

When I looked back at the door, my dad was gone. I supposed he had gotten tired of standing in the store and went to get the car started so the AC would be good and running by the time I got in. Dad wasn't very patient, never was. He doesn't stand still well and always has to move. That's probably good for a sheriff who has to be here, there, or where ever.

I looked at all the people in line as I picked my way out of the bakery. Most looked like hungry college students more than happy to trade two dollars for a New York City famous treat. My mom likes to keep the cinnamon rolls at two dollars. She says it's expensive enough to make good money yet cheap enough to keep people coming.

My dad was hanging on the front passenger door, looking down the street. He looked over at me when I approached. "Ready?" He inquired with a smile. I nodded and slid into the front seat, and he shut the door. Dad was a gentleman too, always holding doors and such. My mom said that's what got her head over heels. I guess my dad fell for the cinnamon rolls. Men love food. Of course they love each other for more than that or I don't think they'd still be together, but something gets you hooked.

He climbed into the driver's seat, and turned the key that had already been put in place.

"Daddy?" I asked sweetly.

"What did Mom say?" Dad smiled, not taking his eyes off the road. He knew what I was asking. Mom had left exact change in the envelope, and she knew that meant no extra money for me to spend on treats.

"Don't even think about any more sweets, Cally Phisher!" I imitated Mom. I exaggerated it a little, but my dad got the point: mom said no treats.

"Well then, I suppose you won't need the extra money." he chuckled.

I stuck out my bottom lip and sank farther into the chair. My puppy-dog look, sometimes it works. And I glanced up at him, but he wasn't even looking. Becoming uncomfortable in the position, I straightened myself up and sighed.

We rode on in silence. We passed tall business buildings, hundreds of taxi cabs, and shopping tourists on the streets. New York City is big, busy, and bright. And of course, we got stuck in rush hour traffic. I turned on the radio to entertain myself but Dad turned it off saying he needed it off just in case he got called up. When we finally got to the grocery store, Dad pulled into a tight parallel parking space.

"Open your hand," Dad smirked. I did so and he dropped a pile of quarters into my hand. Either my puppy-dog look worked or he just decided to give me a treat, but I didn't care, I was getting myself some sour gummy worms.

I grinned. "Thanks, Dad." I closed my hand around the quarters and slipped them into my shorts pocket.

He just nodded with a smile. "Don't tell your mother."

"I won't," I promised before grabbing the envelope of money and the list before jumping out of the car. I knew if I told Mom, I wouldn't get anymore treats so my mouth was staying shut.

I glanced at the top of the buildings as I walked in. I was looking for someone. I mean, that was where I first found him.


	11. Found Pieces

**Edited**

****Reviews are loved****

* * *

"_**All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them." **_**~ Galileo Galilei**

* * *

Noises rose from outside the covered wagon that concealed Randolf and his brothers. The ride had lost drastic speed and jerky stops had become common.

"We are in town," Lysander spoke with disdain.

"It could be just a stop," Democritus suggested gently.

"No." Lysander shook his head. "There are many people here. Even from the sounds I can tell this town is preparing for something. If this is our destination, the fight we are participating in is a town spectacle."

"Well, we are going to be fighting in it. That in itself makes it a spectacle," Macabeth commented.

Lysander sniffed, obviously trying to decide whether he should be humored or offended. Randolf could see the worry lines on his older brother's ace. Lysander worried about their path ahead. However, Randolf was not worried. He had decided with every fiber of his being that humans could not bring them down. He would not allow it.

Randolf's heart was a cold stone for mankind. Not once had he met one in his twenty years that was kind or showed any sign of kindness toward him or his brethren. The only living beings that Randolf had a heart for were his brothers and Silvanus. Silvanus had taught them the ancient ways of fighting, but suddenly vanished seven years ago. All he left were weapons for the four brothers. Sias for Randolf, katanas for Lysander, a bo staff for Democritus and nunchuks for Macabeth.

These weapons were used solely for defense against wild beasts and gathering food. Never before had the four used their weapons for defend against or harm a human. A slight uneasy feeling to use their weapons just to kill was set within all of them including Randolf. He felt that he was adulterating Silvanus' purpose of these weapons by killing man. He would have willingly used his weapons against man had Silvanus not given them the weapons.

The cart continued its bumpy, jerky motion as the four brother's sat in silence, the sounds of the town filling their heads. Even Macabeth seemed somber for the moment.

"Excuse me." The four sat even more still as they listened to the old farmer's voice from outside the wagon. "Can you tell me where entering champions go to register?"

"Right beyond the temple, can't miss it. There'll be a line." A scarred deep voice replied. "Entering the fight, old man?" The voice turned mocking.

"No, of course not. I am representing." It was obvious that the farm was slightly frightened by the man he was speaking to.

"Then let us have a little peek at the competition shall we?" The man's voice boomed and an enormous shadow came to loom over the back cover of the wagon. A loud cheer erupted from the street as the shadow of a giant hand grew close to the fabric opening.

"N-no, that won't be necessary," the farmer said quickly, and with a sharp snap to the reigns, the wagon took off abruptly, throwing its passengers around a bit.

"See you in the fight, old man!" The words were nearly lost in the crowd.

"We're entering a show-fight," Lysander spat with disgust. "These people are here to watch others kill or be killed."

"Who would want to watch that?" Macabeth inquired.

"Disturbing people," Democritus muttered.

"What i-if they separate us? What if we die?" Macabeth's voice was iced with fear. Randolf became aware that Macabeth was holding his knees to his chest.

"We stand to protect all we have, and that's each other." Lysander assured. "If they separate us, we fight those that stand in between us."

"I shan't let them touch you," Randolf joined.

"They won't stand a chance," Democritus agreed.

"Promise we'll stay together?" Macabeth put out a hand.

The other three placed their hand over Macabeth's. "We promise."

However, Randolf was aware of the doubts and ifs of their promise.

* * *

I stretched and yawned from atop the grocery store. I was grouchy and irritated to say in the least. Leo had split us up since we hadn't found anything together. I was glad to get alone, but I had yet to get my fist into someone who deserved it. I supposed the punching bag back home would do – or so I kept telling myself. With my luck, everyone else would come home with a fight story but me.

Taking a glance down, I noticed a girl about my age holding two heavy looking grocery bags. I smirked. She looked like someone who'd get ticked at anyone who tried to assist her. She looked familiar too, with the dark brown hair and impatient looks, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

It happens to me a lot. Life pokes one shoulder when it's at the other. So many thingsI feel like I know, but I don't.

"It's frustrating!" I snarled, pounding my fist on the cement roof. I sighed and leaned back, slightly embarrassed by my sudden anger. Sometimes I am embarrassed by it. But I would never dare tell Leo that or anyone else for that matter.

A sudden muffled shriek caught me from my thoughts. I looked down. The girl was gone. I looked round seeing her in the alleyway being held back by a lean muscular man.

I leaped down and landed. Both the prey and the man looked at me. My narrowed eyes snatched the purple dragon tattoo on his arm.

"What? Alone and thought she'd be an easy target?" I growled, sliding my sias into my hands. "Coward!"

The man met my face with a snarl and pointed his metal pipe at me and spat. "Turtle scum!" He charged me.

"You'll be the scum when I'm through!" I dodged his first charge to see that girl had backed up; she was still staring at me. I was used to it so I thought nothing of it. I was surprised that she hadn't run yet.

I whipped around to face my opponent just in time. I put up my siases to just barely stop the pipe from hitting me in the head. He bore down to try and force my weapons out of hand. I bore back harder. There was a loud clang of metal as his pipe hit the ground.

That's when my favorite part of every fight happened. Fear was in the purple dragon's eyes because he knew he had lost. Sparing him his life, I gave that piece of turtle dung a solid kick in the head. He dropped to the ground.

_Disappointing…_ I thought. I had hoped for a more challenging fight.

I pointed by attention to the girl. "I wouldn't stick around much. His posy might be here soon and they won't be as easy." She simply gawked at me.

Trying to fill the awkward silence as she stared, I glanced at my unconscious victim. "So, what are you doing alone at night?" I asked her.

More silence.

I sighed. "Look, believe it or not – your choice – I'm the good guy. And-"

She interrupted me. "Raph? Raphael?" I sharply looked up at her. The girl met my look, obviously awaiting a response.

It was my turn to gawk. "H-how do you know my name?" Then, it all came back. My life made sense.


	12. Anger Can Blind

I stared at Raph, "Y-you don't remember me?"

Then he met my stare, "C-Cally?" He stammered.

I smiled, "So you do remember me!" I let the bags down and hugged him. "I missed you."

Raph unwrapped my hug and pushed me back, holding my shoulders. "I missed you too," He frowned. "Where were you?!"

"We moved far out…into the country…and-"

"Why didn't you tell me?!" He inquired, releasing my shoulders.

"Because-"

"You left me! And when you did I felt like a fool!" Raph hollered. The criminal sat up, but Raph gave him another solid kick in the head, leaving him down for the count.

I frowned, "I'm sorry; I never got the chance, but I'm back now."

Raph didn't look at me. He just stared at the ground, both hands in fists, with his side to me. "Sorry doesn't cut it," He said, monotoned, "when leave someone, used."

"Raph!" I begged, "Please, just listen-"

"No!" Raph snarled, looking up at me. I took a step back. He jabbed a finger at me, "You listen! You left me confused, hurt, and alone; you changed my personality and my life; and you come back and all you have to say is 'sorry'?!" His voice was shaking.

I frowned, hurt. Why wouldn't he listen? All the same, he was still my friend. I took a step towards him. "Raph, what else can I say?" I inquired. I took another step closer; he didn't budge, just stared at the ground, hands in fists, shaking.

I reached out and touched his shaky arm. "If-if I could have stayed, I would have. If I had known, I would have changed something. You would've been worth it," I said softly.

Raph looked back at me, still shaking; but as I saw his face, I saw that he was crying.

"Raph…"

He frowned. "No," whispered, then turned and quickly climbed the ladder up the side of the building, and disappeared.

I wanted to go after him…but I couldn't, and it wouldn't help anyway. I couldn't cry. I was too mad. He was being so stupid!

So I did the only thing I could. I picked up the bags of groceries and started to walk out to the front of the grocery store.

Dad pulled up as I did. I opened the front seat passenger door. "What were you doing in the alleyway?" He inquired frowning, "It's dangerous."

"The wind blew the receipt back there, you know how Mom is about the receipt," I lied. A raindrop fell on my head, then another, before it started pouring.

"Well, get in," He said, "You'll catch a cold."

I nodded, dropping the bags in the back, then getting into the shotgun seat.

It was a quiet ride home. I was staring out the window at the rain. I was like the sky was crying for me.

As we stopped at the red light, I glanced in the rearview mirror. Back at the grocery store many more men with purple dragon tattoos where standing around.

Back up, I thought miserably.


	13. The Ugly Picture

I couldn't think straight. It was like having the breath knocked out of me. Suddenly, just suddenly, my missing piece of life had been put in place, and it wasn't pretty at all.

Use…she used me. As a child…only a child I had been. Just children we had been.

I sat criss-crossed, face in my hands. My mind was so full, it felt empty; which left me to feel completely hallow, unable to think.

I liked her! I bit my lip, hard, in frustration at just the thought.

I felt the tears well up. No, I firmly wiped them away.

"Raph," I heard Leo's voice behind me. I turned, lifting my head. I saw Mikey and Don behind me, watching with wide eyes like curious children. It was like they knew…

"What?" I frowned.

"Get anyone?"

"No." I hoped he couldn't sense a lie.

"Lets go," was Leo's answer. I stood up, and Mikey approached me. I gave him a face, telling him to bug off. He got the message, going back to Don looking a little shot back. He hissed something to Don, who glanced at me quizzically. Then he patted Mikey's shoulder and said some, obviously, reassuring words in a whisper. Normally I would have said, "You talkin' 'bout me?", but instead I looked in a different direction.

As we began to follow, I looked back. A van had showed up, and more Purple Dragons had gathered on the sidewalk. The one I beat earlier stood, holding his head, and telling his tale.

_Back up, _I thought miserably.


	14. Unanswered Danger

Five days later I awoke for the fourth, miserable time since my devastation.

Slowly, as if it were painful to do so, I pushed myself into a sitting position. I sighed I was tired of feeling like this. I wanted to be happy, to get over it; but I just couldn't bring myself to. I hadn't felt any emotion but sadness for five days…how much longer? Every smile had been forced. Every laugh fake. Perhaps…perhaps Raph was a part of life that was not meant to just forget and get over. Well…my life.

My stomach let out a desperate, low cry. Groaning, I slid my feet to the carpet and pushed myself up to stand.

My room is rather simple, since most is in my TV room. I have the end room, so there's a window at the end of the left wall where the corners meet. My bed is in the opposite corner. I have a tall dress beside the window and a short one beside my door. The lack of light coming into my room from the window told me it was still night…or really early morning.

That didn't matter, I was hungry. Trudging to the door, I ran a hand through my brown, bedraggled hair. Headache. Probably from too much sleep, that's what I had mostly been doing. I wanted to do more than that…just didn't feel like it. Almost like you want to do it, but you fell it would be too much work. That's how I felt. My mind and emotions were so full of despair; it took up most of my energy.

I walk down the carpeted hall. I could see a dim lamp light cast across the tan brown wall. _Dad must still be up_. But when I walked into the kitchen/den, my mother was standing at the door that went downstairs. Her ear was pressed to the door, she looked worried. Something had apparently awoken her, because she was in her floral robe, and her short, bright red hair was sticking up every which way. When Mom saw me, she put a finger to her lips, and motioned me over. So I drew near to her.

"Feel alright, Honey?" She whispered, feeling my forehead.

I nodded, "Hungry." She shushed me. "What's wrong?" I whispered.

"Your father heard a crash, he just went downstairs," Mom maintained a hushed voice.

I opened my mouth to speak; but I was interjected by a loud crash, like pots, pans, and glass falling to the floor below. My mom jumped, swung open the door, and left me with one command, "Stay." The door shut in my face.

I shuddered, the shutting door reminded me of when I closed the door of the staircase to the roof at the orphan house, the last time I saw Raph for six years before I left with my adopted parents. The same doubtful and frightful feeling that my life would never be the same came over me. It played at my already upset with hunger stomach. It scared me. I never meant for the feeling to come over me…it just did…

Another splintering crash made me yelp. Thudding footsteps on the stairs, more than two for sure, made me scramble for the coat closet. Jerking open the door, I jumped in and shut the door. I could hear the door being opened not gently, but the complete opposite. It opened with a bang, not late enough; it was accompanied by gruff voices. "Find the girl!" My heart dropped to my stomach. The wanted me. Why me?

I heard them going down the hall, kicking doors open. One spoke from a room farther down the hall, in a British accent, "Come on out, doll, we won't hurt you if you give us what we want. You'll be as good as dead if you don't come out now…"

Even though the man's words delivered me a cold sweat, I didn't dare budge. If they really wanted something from me, they wouldn't lay a finger on me…or at least they wouldn't kill me.

After the horror of them slowly searching closer and closer to my hiding spot, I saw the shadow of two feet standing in front of the door. I stifled any sound that tried to squirm from between my lips as I pressed myself to the wall. The door was jerked open. "Oh," A sickly pleased voice said, "'Ello, Doll." I could have died right there from fright.

A terrifyingly large hand grabbed my arm and jerked me into the still gently lamp lightened room. Though nothing seemed gentle…the room was full of muscle men, all had purple dragon tattoos some where on them. One walked straight up to me. He was huge and had a blonde ponytail and a scar across his right eye.

"Where do the turtles live?" He asked, and his voice was as deep as he scared me. (And I was terrified.) It took me a minute to realize he was talking about Raphael and his brothers.

"S'all we want to know, Love," The British one added. (The one that dragged me out of the closet.)

"I-I don't know…" I croaked, only able to find half my voice. The British tattoo man was behind me, and he pulled me up to my feet. It hurt. Not wanting to be jerked up again, I stood. "Now, now, I don't think that's the answer you want to me…" The blonde man said. He looked even taller now that I was standing before him. "Come on, Love, try again," British man cackled.

"I-I really don't know…" I croaked again. One of the seven other tattoo men picked up a cell phone, flipped it open, pressed a button, and looked at Big man. Big man nodded and the man spoke into the phone, "Go ahead."

Two solid thumps followed crashing caused the entire room (but me) to erupt into smiles dancing with evil.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY PARENTS?!" I shrieked.

No answer, all I got was mischievous stares and evil smiles. One by one, they all turned away and filed out the now broken front door. The last one out was British man.

"'oodbye, Love, sorry bout your parents," He cackled, "I'm sure you'll miss 'em." He cackled again and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.

I sank to the floor in racking sobs. "No…it's just a dream…just a dream…" were the words that rocked me into a fitful sleep.


	15. The Murder Scene

I sat at the table, glaring at it. I was mad at fate; destiny; Cally; and Leo, because he had told me not to touch the punching bag again. Master Splinter had agreed, but I can't bring myself to be mad at him.

I fingered at the bandages on my blistered hands. I wasn't going to admit Leo was right…saying I was going to tear up my hands, punching the punching bag. I had been on it as much as I could have been this week; so much my hands had blistered. But its what I do when I'm mad…

Why _was_ I so mad at her? Half of my mind said, "Because she used you!" The other half said, "Maybe it's not her you're mad at…" Both made sense, and I hated split decisions, only when they confuse me. Which meant something I did know was that some of this anger wasn't pinpointed at Cally, but at the cause of confusion. I didn't understand anything. Why had she left? Why was I mad? How come I never knew? Is she the reason I'm not me? Am I me? Why don't I understand? It was eating me inside out.

My brothers had been leaving me behind for the past five days to go look for trouble amongst the city. They think I just need to be left alone. _I _think I need a psychologist, but I can't have one, and even if I could I think I'm past the help of anyone.

Normally they didn't come home with anything…but tonight they did.

Don and Mikey were the only ones that came home. "Where's Leo?" I asked.

"Upset…" Don sighed walking over to the table where I sat. Mikey lolled behind him. He was pale…even for his light green complexion.

I frowned, "Usually he only does this if…" Don nodded as my voice faded off. Mikey just stared at the ground, wringing his hands.

"Who was it?" I asked, a bit concerned about Mikey's behavior. It wasn't like him… I looked at him, and he looked up, but looked away almost instantly back to the ground.

Don shrugged, "No one was there."

"Then w-how do you know something happened?"

That's when Mikey spoke up. "Ther-there was blood," Mikey was shaking. He sounded like a person who had seen a ghost or live a horror tail, and was telling their tale. "Th-the glass was all broken….so we went to go check…and there was blood…"

I looked at Don, who was staring at Mikey with slumped shoulders, as if he wasn't happy about Mikey's behavior either. Mikey was a big chicken…but he'd never been this bad off.

"Michelangelo," it was Master Splinter. He stepped out of his room, the back room. "Come," his voice was soft and concerned. Mikey mumbled something, probably a response, and walked rather aimlessly into Master Splinter's room behind him.

Taking the chance to get more information, I motioned for Don to sit. "How bad was it?"

Don took a chair closest to me and turned it towards me, and sat. "It was pretty bad…" he shook his head, and bit his lip, as if saving a moment of silence. "If it were just one person; which we can't be sure it was…or wasn't; I don't think they made it…" He whispered the last two words, as if in fear Mikey would hear.

"Where was it?"

"The new bakery down from April's place…"

I felt blood drain from my face. Cally had said her adopted mom owned a bakery…new bakery moves into New York…Cally comes back around the same time. That math, I _can_ do.

"Raph…you okay?" No one knows that I know Cally…it had to stay that way.

"Y-yeah…" I knew I was mad at Cally…but I can't just leave her like that. Missing…hurt…maybe even dead. So I asked, "Say…say it were to people."

Don looked at me rather suspiciously, leaned back in his chair, and thought. "Low chance…" He murmured softly, watching my face. "Raph?"

I looked up from my bandaged hands that sat in my lap.

"Do you know something…about this?"

I frowned, "Isn't that something Leo should ask me?"

Don avoided my anger by looking away. "Yes…but," He sighed, still not looking at me, "your temper…it's worse…that ever."

"Yah," I tried not to be concerned, "so?"

"None of like to see you this way…"

"Tell me something I don't know…" I sighed, wishing he could. I wished he could tell me if Cally was alive or not…hurt or not… Other things I didn't know too, but luckily Donatello knew nothing about those.

"It was just…how your face changed when I told you it happened at the bakery…you seemed concerned. As if you knew something."

I bit back my sadness. Even though I had been mad at Cally…saying once again…I didn't want her to _die_. "What would be the use of knowing…they're…dead," I choked out the last word. I tried not to be upset…but sometimes you just can't help it.

"So…you know _something_."

"No…I just said what would be the use of knowing." Don's pretty smart, I just hoped he couldn't tell how much I _did_ know.

Don opened his mouth to speak, and a cold sweat was running down my spine. What would happen if they did find out? Found out _everything_?

Luckily before Donatello could say anything, Master Splinter came back out with Mikey. Mikey looked just a bit better. He was still pale, and lolled about as if life had no meaning. It actually scared me; he looked like the anti-Mikey.

He didn't even give us a glance; he just walked over to the old beat up couch and flumped down into it.

"What's wrong with Mikey, Master Splinter?" I asked, much (and I mean much) happier to change the subject.

"Obviously," Master Splinter sighed, "Michelangelo is scare of death…more specifically of blood."

"But," Don sounded utterly perplexed, "all those movies he-I mean we watch."

"I know, but those deaths, and that blood isn't _real_, Donatello," Master Splinter explained.

Don nodded. "Oh," was all he had to say.

For a moment, I felt a little misplaced, like everyone does when those around him have a conversation that excludes him. But I think there was more to the misplacement than I thought…

Master Splinter glanced around, obviously looking for Leo. "Where's your brother?" He asked, as if curious, but not concerned. Leo's the only one Master Splinter never worries about. (Yes, even Don can get himself in some sticky situations.)

"He got upset after what happened tonight," Don explained.

Master Splinter nodded. "Keep an eye on Michelangelo, you know what I mean," He nodded at me and Don.

"Yes, Master Splinter," was our response, not in unison though.

I glanced over at Mikey; he was slumped over on one side of the old blue couch, staring at the TV as he flipped through the channels.

"He'll be fine," Don assured me, answering my unspoken question, "Just give him time."

I nodded, though I was more worried about Cally. I felt guilty. Perhaps…if I hadn't got mad at her…none of this would have ever happened to her…

It was my fault…it really truly was.


	16. Not Meant To Be

My head hurt. I couldn't even sit up. The rough, uncomfortable texture that pressed against my face reminded me of the night before. Mom and Dad! I sat up. Too fast. My mind fuzzed up with pain. I held my head, flexing my toes as if it would help.

"Here," A deep, gentle voice sounded, "this should help." I didn't open my eyes, but the smell of hot tea wafted under my nose. I _loved_ hot tea. Opening on eye I saw a small cup with no handle in front of me with brown steaming liquid in front of me. My stomach (which I hadn't responded to earlier) cried out greedily for it, so I took it and gulped it down to satisfy its painful cries. My head ache slowed, and was soon no more.

When I looked around I almost choked. I wasn't in the den anymore. In fact, I wasn't even at home. The voice chuckled softly, "I thought you might be a little shocked." I nodded, looking around the room. It was a windowed room, and the front of the room had a wooded wall with a wide door, perhaps doubled. Above it was a strange symbol, almost like a rounded pitchfork. The floor was covered with tatami mats.

A figure crouched beside me. A man, he was Caucasian with black hair and brown eyes, and he wore a traditional Japanese robe. "It was much too dangerous," he explained, "So I brought you here. Where it's safer."

I looked at him carefully, "How did you know?"

The man smiled, "I suppose the same way you find out about a cat in the road."

I thought for a moment, "You saw it? You saw those men come?"

He nodded, "They go by the name of the Purple Dragons, I suppose you could say their New York's main gang."

"Purple Dragons…" I murmured. That _would_ explain the purple dragon tattoos. "My parents?" I choked out, scared to hear the answer.

The man frowned, and placed a hand on my shoulder shaking his head. I bit my lip and felt the tears come. "I'm sorry, child," he murmured. "Perhaps they've gone to a better place, if you please."

I nodded, "They went to Heaven." Though what hurt me most was that this was the second time. The second time I lost my parents. Was me having parents just not meant to be?

My mom couldn't remind me of my manners now, and I wasn't going to let her. Plus, I was curious. "What's your name?" I inquired.

"For the best of things, you have no need to know," the man smiled, "but I do request you call me Master."

I sat there for a moment, dumbfounded. "For what reason?" And if you ask that's a rather, if I may say, moronic name.

"Ah, curious aren't we?" Master chuckled. "I am going to train you to help me stand up to, and finally bring down my enemies, the turtles." He spat out the last word with such vengeance, I flinched.

"Y-you mean Raphael and his brothers?" I asked timidly, almost afraid he would turn on me.

Master smiled, "So you know a little of them. Do you know what they are, other than humanoid turtles?"

I thought for a moment. I did remember Raph saying he was a ninja in training…and that was six years ago. "Ninjas?" I answered, uncertain."

"Smart as well I see," Master paced with his hands behind his back. "Yes, and it is of which you shall be."

"Why don't you like them? The turtles?" I asked out of curiosity, if I were to be fighting against them I would like to know why.

"Ah, two wise men never get much out of each other for one asks too many questions and the other gives two few questions," Master turned away, staring out a window with his hands behind his back. "You will find out soon enough."

I nodded, staring at the tatami covered floor, why was he immediately taking me in?

"A lot of questions swim in your mind, Cally Phisher," Master turned around, but did not look at me, instead his eyes wandered till they stopped on a glass case with a ruined suit of armor. "Questions I can answer."

I gawked at him. He knew my name?! Seriously, was this guy some kind of mind reader? And _did_ want answers, I had to admit.

Then Master looked down on me, "But, these answers will not come now."

I stared at the floor, crestfallen, and confused. It all felt like a strange dream. Mom and Dad couldn't possibly be gone. No way. I was probably just asleep. I would wake up and everything would be back to normal.

"Karia!" Master called out suddenly, breaking the tensioning silence. Then he looked at me, "You need to rest Cally, a lot of answers will be given to you soon."

"Yes, Master?" A strong defiant woman's voice called out. I didn't bother look, I was too dizzy.

"Young Cally is to rest now," Master explained, "show her to her room."

"Yes, Master," Karia answered. "Follow me, Cally."

I nodded; standing up, not too fast though in fear of a dizzy spell, I ran to catch up with Karia.

Karia had already walked back out a back door, behind a small stage with a table and seat pillow. She had short black hair and wore a slick black uniform. I followed her into a long hall.

"You'll get one too," She said shortly, noticing me stair. I nodded, then looked about the hall. A Japanese-like pattern with red pillars echoing down the wall, and the floor was hardwood.

"You're still in shock," Karia noted, "It will wear off soon, don't be surprised. It leaves you tired, but food and rest help."

I nodded again, not quite sure what to say. I noticed her feet made no sound, feeling ashamed of my noisy steps I stared at the wall again. Mom always said I was hasty to readjust. Could that be a bad thing?

Karia stopped in front of a plain wooden door. Pushing it open she put a hand out into the room. "This one's yours."

I stepped inside. There was a bed. It was, or looked like, a mattress on a piece of carved mahogany wood. The wood was dark and shined in the dim light, and it had two drawers on each side of it. Karia flipped on a striped lamp that stood on a small nightstand.

"This is where your clothes are to be put," Karia pointed to a tall wooden dresser. "I'm right down the hall, first door to the right, if you need anything." She nodded her head in a small bow and turned out, closing the door behind her.

The wall was real bamboo. I ran my hand across the uneven light green columns. On my bed the mattress was what appeared to be a Chinese style painting on fabric, but it was most likely Japanese. I felt tears come. My stuffed sock monkey my parents gave me when I moved in with them was on the bed, sitting against the plain white pillow. It wasn't a dream, was it?

I grabbed Socky and lay down on the bed, holding him against me. I broke into sobs.

This wasn't a dream, they really were gone.


	17. Investigation

The last police siren faded off into the distance. And it took way too long…at least for my anticipation.

I didn't have to sneak out of the sewers, at least. Just had to tell them I needed some air. I did it all the time.

The bakery was still covered with yellow tape that said "DO NOT ENTER", but yellow tape doesn't exactly offend me. So I simply pretended it didn't exist.

Before anyone could see, I quickly slipped into the front broken window. A chill ran up my shell as I looked around. The glass showcases had been broken, I had to pick through the glass so I wouldn't cut my foot open. Cakes and pastries were smashed and spread across the tiled floor. That's when I saw the main attraction.

Glass bowls were broken and smashed with huge puddles of blood surrounding it. The stench almost made me hurl. The blood was also splattered on the bright yellow wall. This was just like a horror or murder mystery movie. My heart sank. No one could have possibly survived this.

I glanced around the room, the stench still playing at my stomach. I couldn't leave any evidence I had been here. An open door left cracked open was at one end. Desperate for the stench to leave, I carefully and quickly walked over to it.

I shuddered; it reminded me of the black door at the orphan house that Cally lived behind.

I pushed the door open a little more. A staircase was there, just like at April's place. They probably lived up there…or had.

From the scene at the bakery and the tape outside, no one was most likely in here, which made it easier to get up there without being noticed. I wanted more information. Perhaps Cally wasn't a part of this.

I slipped silently up the stairs, just in case. _Please don't be locked_, I begged the door as I twisted the knob. It opened. I was almost afraid of what I would find. I looked inside. Nothing abnormal. A lamp had been left on, casting shadows across the den/kitchen. I saw one move, catching my sais in my hands, I twisted around. I grimaced, what an idiot. It was _my_ shadow.

The only thing out of place was a coat closet with that was open, and everything that was in the floor was seeping out. It was almost as if someone had been drug out.

I looked in. Nothing odd, but the things in the floor were unevenly strewn about. Unless these people had serious organizing problems, someone was definitely drug out of here.

A hall opened up on the den side, which was a bit larger. A couch sat beside the large window with a side table and the lamp on it, and a TV had been left on a movie on pause. It looked to be "The Matrix." I was glad Mikey wasn't here. He loved that movie. I didn't think the people who were murdered were drug…I think they tricked them down there to their death. Something seemed familiar with that move…but I couldn't put my finger on it. _Raph, back to the hall,_ I reminded myself. I walked into the first room on the left. Looked like someone's TV room, or used to be. CD's that used to be on shelves on the wall were now shoved to the floor. The TV and the stand that held it had been toppled over, and a green beanbag chair had been kicked to the far wall. Who ever fixed this place went all out. But I don't think the owners would like the makeover.

I glanced into the next room. They definitely went all out, as if to eliminate any clues… A mahogany desk had been turned over; leaving the organizers, pens, pencils, desk lamp, and papers to the floor. Tall, black book shelves that covered almost every side of the wall had been cleared of books, they lay scattered stretched out in every position among the desk belonging's.

Every clue eliminated, obviously everyone in here was gone….I was through in here. I felt sick too, the stench didn't want to leave me behind as bad as I did to it. I was ready to leave. _No survivors,_ my mind echoed. _Cally's dead. And you could have stopped it. You left her to her murder's mercy. _

**Thunk! **I straightened up. Suddenly I was given the knowledge that I wasn't alone.

"Ay, you fool, don't make so much a racket!" A British voice hissed from the next room.

"Sorry…" Another one replied in a soft voice.

I couldn't afford a fight by myself…even though a fight was always ready if you were welcome. Leo would kill me with no mercy, and I seriously wasn't in the mood for another fight with him. Plus I wouldn't feel like it mentally or physically if I fought these guys. So I pressed myself to the wall as best I could with a shell, and took a quick glance. It was all I needed to find out that they were Purple Dragons.

So they were behind this! They were Cally's murders! Now it didn't matter what Leo _or_ anyone else thought, these two had better be ready to travel. Out of their bodies.

"Why did Shredder want the girl's parents dead anyway?" The noisy one asked in a whisper, so softly that it was obvious that he didn't want to be yelled at again. I froze. Shredder? Big surprise, we usually found him linked to almost everything bad.

"So they wouldn't get in the way, you bloody fool!" The British one cursed.

"Why not the girl too?" So Cally wasn't dead! But Shredder was going to pay. What was up with him and tearing families apart?

"Shedder needs her," The British one answered simply. Needs Cally? For what? At least that told me where she was. Anything Shredder _needs_ is with him.

I needed to get her back before Shredder did anything to her. I couldn't tell my family…neither could I do it alone. Casey! Casey was my friend. This is what friends are for! Right? We're both crazy and hot-headed. He's always wanted revenge on the Purple Dragons anyway, for killing his dad.

He would help me…I hoped. And he would keep my dirty little secret.


	18. Return To The Unknown

After hours of crying, I still sat on my bed holding Socky. I had figured the whole thing out.

This wasn't my fault, it was Raphael's. If he hadn't forsaken me, those Purple Dragons wouldn't have been able to kill my parents.

I was mad at him, someone had to be blamed, and it was Raph. I had no one, I trusted no one. And I never would again. I was back to the way I was six years ago before I had met Raphael. Back to the life of the unknown, I had returned to the life of the unknown.

My mind echoed the words like a song that gets stuck in your head. _Return to the unknown._


	19. Part 3: The Horrible Truth

"Alright, man, you got me up here and for what?" Casey asked, his voice was muffled through his hockey mask.

It was the next night. I wished I could have done this the night before, but there is no way you can get this lump of a friend up past midnight and before the sun.

"To rescue someone," I replied, still not willing to give my dirty secret away.

"Who? Angel ain't got herself into any trouble again, has she?" Angel was a girl about, maybe younger, my age. Casey promised her grandma he would look out for her.

"No, you don't know 'em."

"Hmph, well I wouldn't be doing this if you weren't my friend," Casey was _not_ happy," Who's got this friend of yours anyway?"

"…Shredder," I answered reluctantly. I looked down Casey's apartment building to the street below. Everyone who knew Shredder is afraid of him, even I am, his _is_ a scary guy. He's kind of psycho too if you ask me.

"Raphy boy, why didn't you get your bros to help? I know he ain't got _them_!" Definitely

not happy.

I sighed heavily running a hand down my face. Was this really a good choice? "They can't know."

"I understand why! This is stupid, man!"

"Look, we're not going to fight anyone if it's possible not to, just find her and get out!"

"We still could-Wait! Did you say _her_? Are you talking about April? She ain't hurt is she?!" Casey looked read to kill. April's actually his girl friend, and she was the first person my brothers and I met.

"No! I said you didn't know them!" I groaned. I had to tell him, "You mind a story?"

Casey just shook his head. So I told him my whole story with Cally all the way up to the bakery incident the night before. "That's why I feel guilty for it, and why we have to get her back," I finished. Casey had taken off his hockey mask and was looking at me with a stupid smile.

It disturbed me a bit. I frowned, "What?"

Casey just laughed, "You didn't tell me we were rescuing your _girlfriend_!"

I scowled, "She isn't my girlfriend!"

"Well, you like her, didn't you?" He grinned. I was already sick of this.

I glared at him, "Did! As in the past! As in not now!"

"Alright, alright," Casey held up his hands, but was still smiling. "Don't have to get all worked up."

"If I weren't in need of help," I snarled, "I would kill you now."

"I could kill you first!" Casey argued, glaring back at me. Yah, we don't get along too well from time to time.

"So," I stretched, "are we doing this or not?"

"Yeah," Casey smirked, "for your girlfriend."

I slapped him across the face.

Casey was still holding his left cheek when we crept up on top of The Foot's HQ. Shredder lead leads The Foot.

A shrine sits at the top of the building. The Foot symbol is above the door. Strangely enough, no one was to be seen. No Foot ninjas or Purple Dragons, just no one.

"Something's not right," I hissed.

"You got that right, Raphy," Casey flinched as he stretched his jaw, rubbing his cheek that I slapped. "I think you broke something." He wasn't even looking at the Foot building.

I resisted the temptation to slap the other side of his face. He might need at least one hand free if we ran into trouble. "Not your freakin face!" I snarled, grabbing his head and twisting it towards the building. "That!"

"Raph! There's no one there!" Casey pointed to the building then looked at me.

I lost five years of my life right there just trying not to slap that imbecile. He's only acting this stupid if he wasn't sleeping enough, I reminded myself harshly.

"That also makes it easier for us," I whispered.

"Do you think their waiting for us?" Casey whispered.

"If they were waiting for us they would have an army right before us, they don't mess around," I hissed back.

"True. So what's the plan?" Casey inquired.

My face burned. No wonder I was no leader. I _had_ no plan.

"Well?"

"Shaddup I making this up as I go."

"Brilliant."

"Got anything better, big brain?"

Silence.

"That's what I though," I snapped. "Come one." I slipped through the shadows and pressed myself to the outer wall next to the door.

Casey's no form of graceful, so I had to motion him over when I was sure it was safe. He ran over like a football player. As I said, no grace, or stealth, just…I'm not really sure other than the occasional blonde roots and anger issues. Hey, friends insult each other, right?

"What now?" Casey hissed, sweeping some of his hair out of his eyes.

"Don't you listen to anything I say? Ever?" I snarled in whisper.

"I listen to you better than most people, but…no," From his tone he was _clearly_ trying to irk me.

Before I could say anything or do anything to him (I wasn't sure which I was going to do to him), the wooden door swung open. I couldn't hear the footsteps padding across the wooden porch of the shrine as I closed my eyes, feeling like a five year old playing at "I can't see you so you can't see me", but I knew they were there.

I gave up as I felt eye piercing me like daggers. _Please don't be Shredder or Hun!_ I pleaded silently. Shredder would just kill us right here. Hun wasn't as scary, but he would _definitely_ call for back up and one of them would _definitely_ be Shredder. I opened my eyes. It was Karia. I frowned, even though she had promised that neither me nor the rest of my family would be killed, she wasn't exactly my favorite person. Especially now.

Karia was smiling, but it wasn't a warm welcome I can tell you that. In fact, it looked like she was silently laughing at me!

"I know why you are here," the mocking smile grew. "You _and_ your little friend. "Karia shot a glance at Casey who stood next to me.

"Hey! Who you callin' little?" Casey demanded, but didn't budge.

I simply raised an eyebrow ridge, waiting, agitated.

Karia smirked, prideful, like someone who had proven their point. "You're here for you girlfriend." She placed her hands behind her back, obviously waiting for either confession of denial.

"Okay first of all," I frowned, "she is not my girlfriend _for the last time_!"

Karia's smile only grew, and I was sure Casey was trying not to laugh.

I clenched my fists by my side, one of my small goals were no fights…yet. "Second, _why is this so funny_?!" I demanded, entirely irked.

"Because, Raphael," Karia replied calmly, "Every effort is pointless." She was still smiling. I think she knew every muscle in me wanted to get rid of her cocky smile.

"What do you mean by that?" I snarled. "Exactly."

"We put up no fight for her, because we know we have no need to," Karia explained.

"That makes no sense!" Casey spat.

"Perhaps not to an imbecile," Karia shot back.

I put up an arm to block Casey from trying to kill Karia. "We both want to, but lets get this straight first," I hissed.

"Unexpectedly wise decision, Raphael," Karia kept calm still, sarcastically marveling.

"Saying?" I pricked an eyebrow ridge. She was really asking for it.

Karia shrugged, "I only expected you to be the first to plunge into an unneeded battle."

"Are you saying I don't have the power to rescue Cally?" I growled.

"No, I did _not_ say that," Karia was still in her cocky calmness. "I'm saying perhaps Cally does not _want_ to be rescued."

"Shell, I know she wants _and_ needs to be rescued," I hissed gripping the handle of one of my sais.

"Let me finish before you make the choice, Raphael," was Karia's only reaction to the threat. "Whether she wants to be rescued or _not_, I assure you she does not want to be rescued by _you_."

My hand dropped and guilt began to bubble in my stomach.

Karia continued, "Cally blames you, Raphael. She hates you more than anyone. There's no turning back." She walked over to the door and placed her hand around the handle. "Even if you are lucky enough to see her again, it will never, _ever_ be the same," Karia opened the door and walked in, letting it shut noisily behind her.

I did nothing. Guilt filled my stomach, playing at it. I felt weak.

"Raph?" Casey inquired softly.

"Leave me alone," I snarled, shifting away from him. "Karia's right. She's dead right," I ran off, weak at the legs and jumped to the building beside the Foot's.

I heard Casey calling after me, but I didn't reply. I kept going till I could no longer hear him, and even then I kept going. I only stopped when my stomach threatened me; but it didn't help, I wretched into an alleyway below.

I felt like a murdered. And I might as well be. It was my fault Cally was with Shredder, and might as well be dead; and that her parents were dead. Wiping my mouth of foul taste I thought miserably, _What will become of Cally now?_


	20. A Hidden Power

I was spending all my time in my room in mental pain. I was feeling betrayed and lonely. Raphael was a jerk, why did my parents have to die for me to see that?

A soft rap on the door sounded in my ear. "Come in," I replied, frowning.

Karia walked in with her usual dignified, emotionless attitude. Sometimes I wondered how she did it. I wanted to be emotionless. No sadness or anger…just nothing, it would fit my new wanted lifestyle. "Are you done fasting?" She inquired harshly, "or do you feel like dinner instead of laying about like a useless lump?"

I sat up from laying on my stomach. "It's not fasting," I argued, "I'm just not hungry."

"Typical," Karia sniffed, "very well then." And with that she turned and left.

As the door closed I stuck my tongue out at her. Even though Karia was dignified, she tended to be rather arrogant. Besides, what did it matter to her whether I ate or not?

I sprawled back with my face in the pillow and Socky squished to my side. I closed my eyes for just a minute…

A clicking sound ripped me from my dreams. I realized it was someone walking down the hall. No one ever made noise walking down the hall, and Karia was the only one I was aware of that actually came around here.

The steps got louder until they stopped at my door. I did not sit up, but simply stared at the door, staring.

"May I come in?" Master's voice sounded. I swallowed, could he be mad that I hadn't done anything in three days?

"Yes, Master," I replied, trying to hide the fear. I don't think I did to well.

As the door started to open, my heart started pounding. Then Master stepped in. He was wearing Japanese sandals and holding a tray with what appeared to be sushi, a small cup of tea, and chopsticks. He frowned, "You look worse than Karia said."

I felt relief wash over my whole body. He wasn't mad, just worried.

"You need to eat something," He continued, "to keep your strength up." He handed me the tray.

I broke the chopsticks and pinched up a piece of sushi and popped it in. I loved sushi; even my mom could make good sushi. I had to hold back tears.

Master watched me eat three more pieces and take a few sips of the steaming tea. "Good," He nodded briskly, satisfied. "see to it that you finish all that." Then he turned and left.

He reminded me of Dad. When I first moved out into the country, I was depressed about Raphael. I never told Mom and Dad, but it was pretty obvious because I never ate. Mom always insisted upon leaving me be, I would eat when I was hungry enough. But Dad always brought me different varieties of foods to get me to eat. The only thing he ever got me to eat back then was Mom's sushi. It wasn't as good as her pastries, but it was good sushi.

Tears started to bubble up and wander down my cheek. One landed on a piece of sushi. I frowned flicked off the most I could with a chopstick and ate it before it could ruin a good piece of sushi.

I sat there and cried, leaving five pieces of sushi for later. I cried for Mom and Dad. And I cried for my childhood friend who changed and ruined my life. Why did Mom and Dad have to die? Why did Raphael have to change to an air-headed, arrogant jerk? I wanted them all back, Raph as he was six years ago.

"Didn't I warn you?" I looked up at Karia's voice. I must not have heard her come in through my tears. "I could hear you blubbering from my room. You broke my meditation," She snapped, frowning. It reminded me of a disturbed she-lion I had see on TV.

I bit back a retort and simply returned the glare. The tears that had not gone down my cheek, started to dry.

"Be quieter next time," Karia scoffed before walking out the door.

"You broke my meditation," I mocked after I gave her enough time to be out of earshot.

I popped the last five pieces of sushi in my mouth one at a time, savoring the taste.

The door opened as I was drinking the last of the tea. Karia's head popped in, and she did _not_ look happy. "Master would like to speak with you," She snapped as if Master were playing favorites and she lost. "Follow me."

I placed the cup back on the tray, and the tray on the bed.

Licking the tea-stache from my upper lip, I followed Karia out of the room.

"Where are we going?" I inquired, trying to sound a bit more mature.

"You'll find out soon," She sighed impatiently. "So why should I tell you?"

"Right," I muttered. Could I ever impress her? If I couldn't return to my past life of depression I should have some goal. I don't know why I can't be depressed. My main guess is that my parents made such an impact on my personality. Mom was always so positive and Dad never gave up.

Karia walked up to the wall and pressed a button. Suddenly a section of the wall slid open.

"An elevator?" I was appalled; I expected to walk down stairs.

"What? Did you think we were that old-fashioned?" There was no hint of friendliness in her voice.

I made no effort to argue. Karia snorted and stepped inside the elevator with me following slowly.

The walls inside were plain red with no décor. It was surprising, since the whole place seemed well decorated. Karia pushed another button from beside the door of many and the doors shut. The electric carrying car lurched, causing me to lose balance, and slowly tracked down with the clicking of it being slowly pulled down. I regained my stability and tried to stand as straight and well-carried as Karia.

I didn't last too long as the car jostled once again to a shaky stop. I lost one foot to the air and had to catch myself on the red, wallpapered wall, but Karia's body moved with the elevator.

I frowned. It wasn't fair, Karia seemed perfect. (That's excluding her lack of patience.)

The door slid open and revealed a room of beeping computers, robot displays, and people and lab coats rushing to and fro.

As Karia and I stepped in; the people stopped, turned to face us, and bowed. "Mistress Maysa," their voices came in horrific unison, like robots almost.

Before I could glance at Karia, I realized with a strange, sickening twist they were all looking at me. They all looked so serious. What was going on? In what seemed like slow motion, they all straightened back up and went to their busy worlds.

"Cally," I said slowly, "_that's_ my name." I shivered, as I observed closer they all appeared to act like robots. Each one walked on only one side of the room to which no one ever bumped into another and they moved in jerking movements.

"Not anymore," Master's voice rang out amongst the 'people's' chatter. It sounded slow and defiant, but still soft somehow.

I bowed slightly, unable to find the right question in my head.

"Come," He motioned with his hand as he turned and walked deeper into the room.

"The preparations are nearly ready," A voice sounded from in front of a computer. As I looked closer if appeared to be an actual robot, but when it turned around I saw a brain connected to two eyeballs. I squealed, jumping back, only to have Karia gruffly push me back. "You can be friends with mutant turtles, but be freaked by a brain?!" She hissed.

Master and the brain ignored me. The brain was in a glass container filled with liquid, and the container was atop a robot's body, complete with speakers so that it could talk.

Master narrowed his eyes. "Very well, Dr. Stockman, if you're not careful, it could be your last."

"Of course, of course," Dr. Stockman replied, not too well at hiding his fret.

I turned to Karia. "What does he mean by his last?" I whispered.

Karia simply glared at me and flicked my ear, making me turn back around.

Rubbing my ear, I frowned. "Jerk," I muttered, too quiet to be heard.

"Come now," I looked up to see that Master had walked down to the far wall, and was standing in front of a painting that looked painstakingly familiar. As I got closer, I gasped. It looked just like me!

I touched my cheek, tracing the scar that marked my cheek of my promise. The night I feel off the front porch roof six years ago. Even that stripped across the girl's left cheek. She wore a purple and yellow kimono, and her brown hair was pulled so strictly back that if appeared to pull at her face.

"It looks like me," I gaped at the picture. "Is it?"

Master shook his head," Close, it is your ancestor from five-hundred-fifteen years ago, Empress Maysa."

"So why…?" I couldn't seem to find the right words in my churning mind.

Master ignored my gawking and went on. "They say that after five-hundred years, one's reincarnation comes back. You are she," He explained calmly. "She was said to have never trusted anyone." He looked down at me, almost as if he expected a reaction.

I simply stared at the Empress. I had been like that…six years ago.

"That was until she met four unusual beings, whom were feared for their fighting skills. She befriended these four, and took them as her advisories once they had proven themselves. Two stood on each side of the throne from which she ruled her land.

"One day the four had to leave for a long and perilous journey, that of which they could not explain. They promised the Empress they would return. To seal the promise they gave her a jewel. But soon after they left, Lady Maysa discovered that it was no ordinary jewel. It held great powers that could destroy the world with out the lift of a finger to guide. So Empress Maysa kept the jewel a secret from her land, and had it protected with only the best. Now, after years of waiting for her adversaries to returned, she was nearly ready to leave her life. Her son and his wife oversaw the land till she perished.

"It was then that she understood her friends' promise. The Empress fretted about the jewel's powers that would not be kept fully safe after she was gone. So, to prevent this, she had the jewel implanted in her by swallowing it. No one knew of this as she swapped it for a fake. The only person who knew was her son who was given the secret in a letter for him after the Empress had passed.

"Now," Master looked down on me, "the jewel lives inside _you_."

I felt fear churning inside of me as his stone stare seemed to see into me.

"The powers rightfully belong to me," He gestured into the air, "so that I may finally bring the turtles to their deserved fate!"

I took a step back only to have Karia's firm grip lock my shoulders. A cold sweat ran down my back. It had led to my death, I was sure I was going to die. Whether this jewel was real…or not.


	21. Unspilled Secrets

I blinked. I looked around in panic. I was at home, on the old couch…but how? My whole body throbbed. I took my shaking arms and tried to push myself up, but instead I lost strength and fell back, my chest heaving.

"Raph?" It was Donnie.

"What happened?" I croaked, squinting up at him. The light hurt.

"Casey told us you ran off, we found you unconscious," Don frowned.

My stomach lurched. Did Casey spill? I couldn't help but wonder helplessly.

"Dude!" Mikey's holler made my head swell with pain causing me to groan. "Is Raphy okay?"

"Stop yelling!" Donnie scolded, "You're making him worse!"

"Oh, sorry, man," Mikey apologized.

"S'okay," I muttered, it hurt to talk.

"You look horrible! You feel like livin?"

I just rolled over, and grunted. What happened to me? Sure, I lost consciousness, but this was horrid. I considered Mikey's comment about living, being dead sounded ideal at the moment.

"Dude," I heard Mikey hiss to Don, "He looks really weak…that normal?" It didn't sound like a taunt, but any mention of weakness and I'm up.

"I'm going to hurt you, that ought to prove I'm not weak!" I grumbled, forcing myself into a sitting position.

"Raph! Lay!" Don pushed me back down. "Mikey! Leave!"

I heard Mikey sniff, probably pouting.

"What's wrong with me?" I asked, breathing heavily. I _felt_ I was going to die.

"You strained yourself," Don explained, "Mentally or physically, I don't know. But you do." I had my eyes closed, but on his last sentence I heard suspicion. I knew he was thinking about that night we talked after they found the crime scene of Cally's parent's murder.

I just grunted, so he went on. "Your body simply needs to refresh. Some rest, which you've had lost of; food; and water and you'll be fine," Donnie sounded rather delighted with his diagnostic. "But until you feel absolutely fine, do not get up from the couch."

"Fine, what ever you say, Dr. Donatello," I muttered, rubbing my aching head.

"Good, now, can you sit up on your own? You can't eat like that," Don shook his head. "You might choke."

"I'm fine. Don't take the doctor thing too far," I muttered. I pushed myself up, and stiffly turned before collapsing against the back of the couch.

"Here," I looked over to see Leo holding out a bowl of cereal.

I took it. "Thanks," I grumbled, taking a bite.

Leo stayed by. When Don walked off to his desk, pleased with himself, Leo sat down beside me. I gave him a hard sideways stare.

"Raphael, what is going on?" He hissed. "Casey wouldn't tell me a thing. But something's going on with you."

I pricked an eyebrow ridge, pretending to not care. "What makes you say that?"

Leo frowned, "Think about it, Raph. You haven't been acting like yourself at all since I sent us off on single patrol. You're on edge, you daydream most of the time, and you 'go out for air' a lot more often."

I flinched. How could I counter that?

Leo's eyebrow ridges lifted and half his mouth went up, as if he were half on half about something.

"What?" I glared at him, taking a firm bite of cereal.

"Is it a girl?" The subject most obviously humored him, "Are you dating?"

"No!" I snapped, "What the shell, Leo! How stupid can you be?!" I was actually relieved he added the last question. Because, was it a girl? Yes. Were we dating? No. I wasn't even crushing on her. But I was worried. When Shredder wants something, it isn't for an exactly 'wonderful' cause.

Leo shrugged, "Just a thought, but something is going on, Raphael, and I will find out."

I popped another bite of cereal in my mouth and returned a searching, firm stare. Then he stalked off, apparently agitated.

I reached for the TV remote, but I was interrupted by the most annoying sound. Mikey's voice.

"Raph, you okay now? Wanna play a video game?"

"What? Don don't wanta play with ya?"

Mikey's face turned crestfallen. "No…" He muttered, "He said he was busy…" He stuck his bottom lip out and stared at me.

Mikey's gone into what Don calls, 'a phase,' of using a puppy dog face to get what he wants. I just think he's being himself, annoying.

"Mikey, that don't work on me," I snatched the remote and pointed it at him, "It's called wrestling."

Mikey sighed and trudged off, probably to play with his cat, Clunk, or read his comic books.

I ignored him, and turned on the TV. I went through quite a few channels till I was able to find a good match.

I usually loved watching people pound each other, but today I found myself wandering elsewhere. Would Cally be okay, or even…alive? Would Casey tell my brothers about Cally?

I glanced over at Donnie, who was bent over, working intensely at something. As I watched him, he started rubbing the back of his head. Don always does that when he feels he's being watched. So I turned back to the TV.

I felt someone staring at me, but I already knew who it was so I made no effort to turn around. I had a feeling Leo was going to be watching over me for a long time. Or till I told on myself, which wasn't going to happen.

I started messing with my feet. My back still hurt, but it was bearable. A sharp pain abruptly shot my foot. I lifted it up to where I could see it. A small cut, probably from that rusty old spring that Donnie had been meaning to fix for the past three months.

The roll of bandage was right in front of me on the coffee table. No reason to put disinfectant on it, it wasn't that bad. I stiffly leaned forward and grabbed it, before falling back against the couch. Okay, it still hurt to do that.

I wrapped some around my foot, over the cut, only enough to keep it from staining the couch. The blood covered the first two layers, so I put on two more. It didn't show.

I tossed the roll back onto the table and turned my attention to the wrestling match. I was careful not to touch the cut to anything. It stung, bad. But I was sure it would stop soon.

The real worry was Cally, even though she probably hated me. What could Shredder want with her? Make her tell exactly where we lived? He was probably frustrated that he couldn't find our home the last time he searched the sewers. But…she didn't know where we lived. He would torture her for not telling if that's what he wanted. I shuddered.

Then something hit me that I should have realized last night. It didn't matter whether Cally wanted me to save her or not, she needed to be. I just needed to figure out how…


	22. Untold Stories

I sat on my bed, staring at the wall.

_Master smiled down at me, "It won't hurt you. Dr. Stockman has prepared a special tracer which will simply find it and have you regurgitate it."_

_I relaxed; at least I wasn't going to die. But…Raph and his brothers, they were going to die. _

_Dr. Stockman wheeled up, holding a white framed black sheet of some sort of material. "Just to be sure," he explained as he held the sheet up in front of my abdominal cavity._

"_See, right there," He pointed a robotic finger to something on the sheet. A portable X-ray machine! _

_Master nodded and a smile grew on his face that sent a shiver down my back spine. _

_Karai was chewing her lip. What was wrong with her?_

"_Very good," Maser nodded. _

_Stockman wheeled away with the X-ray machine. _

"_Karai, take Maysa back to her room now," Master looked at me, lacking the concern I saw before. _

"_Come then," Karai said. I turned and followed back through and out of the room. _

_When we were in the moving elevator, I asked, "Am I not Cally anymore?"_

"_No," She answered shortly, and rather absent mindedly, "You are Maysa."_

"_Oh."_

Now, Maysa, me, sat on her bed, fretting. What was to become of Raphael and his brothers?

Sure I had been mad at him, but now he was going to die. I didn't want him to die, just change.

I lay back on my pillow and closed my eyes.

* * *

_Creak!_ My eyes flashed open. I wasn't in my room, and I was sitting in an uncomfortable chair. My hair was painfully pulled away from my face and it was sweltering. I tried to look about, but could no move my head. In fact, I couldn't move anything. Instead, I was staring down at a wooden table.

"Empress?" A concerned voice inquired, "Is something the matter?"

"You tell me, Democritus…"

I was seeing out of the eyes of Empress Maysa!

"I can see no true peace within those whom fight amongst each other," A different, rougher voice spoke.

"There must be, even if we must make it, Randolph," The Empress' voice shook. "I must keep my kingdom together! And you must help!"

Silence fell and clinking from another room was the only thing heard.

"Mistress, you know we must go," A soft, defiant voice sighed.

The Empress shook her head, "Then why may I not go, Lysander?" Her voice came out in a whisper, but because the silence was still trying to overcome, it was all that was needed.

"Because," Lysander's voice came out strong, but it sounded struggled, "the journey is ours, and it is much too dangerous for you."

Another voice spoke; less mature than the others, "You know we can't lose you. You would get hurt."

Maysa let out a short, biter laugh, "Macabeth, you know that is the last thing I worry about"

"But it's the first thing we worry of," Democritus murmured.

"Empress, you must understand," Lysander's strain echoed across the room.

"Why can't you tell me about this journey?"

"It does not concern you," was Randolph's short answer.

"I trust you with my life and you cannot trust me with this?" The Empress did not look up, but from her voice you could tell she was saddened and upset with the situation.

"If we spoke of the journey we might leave your kingdom in worse condition than it already is!" Randolph explained hotly.

Maysa sighed in exasperation, finding herself getting no where. "When do you leave?"

"The sky indicates a clear day tomorrow," Democritus said, his words hung heavily in the air.

"Then I suggest you begin to pack," And with that the Empress stood and left without giving any of them as much as a glance.

She walked down a plan hall of wooden floor and wall. She stopped in front of a thin door and slid it open before stepping inside.

This was so frustrating. Why didn't I get any control of Maysa's body if I got all the senses? Was this all just a stupid dream or was I actually seeing something that really happened?

I was too deep in thought to notice that Maysa had walked over to her bed. If I was seeing something that really happened, it was when the advisors left. So where was the jewel?

"Why didn't Lysander tell me they were leaving before now?" The Empress cried, "I thought he…" Her voice faded off.

Thought he what?! I couldn't get into Maysa's thoughts, but I had a pretty good guess. That he perhaps loved her. A sudden sense of repulse hit my thoughts.

Wait! Four…unusual beings…feared for fighting skills? Why had I not put the pieces together?! Raph and his brothers where the advisors reincarnations! But…which one was Lysander? I knew Raphael was Randolph, but the others names… Wasn't Dan one of them? No… I couldn't remember. It had been so long.

Maysa was crying into her hands when the door slid gently open. She looked up, wiping her eyes of tears. "Lysander?"

Finally! I wanted to know what they looked like.

A rather tall figure stood in the doorway. What was odd was that I could see the same build as Raphael's, but Lysander wore a cloak that had edges that touched around his calf's, and he also had a scarf that wrapped around up to the edge of his mouth and hung down to his waist. Lysander slowly walked into the room, sliding the door shut behind him. "You do understand, don't you?" He asked softly.

Maysa simply looked to the floor. "Why didn't you tell me?" her voice came in a whisper against the silence.

"This is one thing I could not tell you about," Lysander's remorse lingered in his voice.

"You could have at least told me you were going to leave."

"I-I promised, you know as leader, I have to take up these responsibilities," Lysander's voice barely escaped his mouth. He walked closer and reached out toward Maysa.

She simply swatted his hand away, "We spoke of this," She murmured.

His hand dropped and his left brought out a box. "Here," The words stuck to despondence.

The Empress took it from his hand. It was a dirty, filthy box. She looked up at Lysander, most likely skeptical. As she opened it a soft shimmering began to emerge. Inside, sitting on a bright red cushion, was a crystal orb. Perfectly round, the mood light seemed to purposely catch it. "Lysander…" She breathed. My image started blurring with her tears.

"I hope," Lysander softly explained, "it represents us, my brothers and I."

Maysa studied the box and looked up at Lysander. "Not the outside," There was a little light in her voice.

He smiled, "I thought it did." The small amount of moonlight revealed his face to look almost identical to Raphael's other than different color. So they were still the same beings…but dressed differently.

"You've always been harsh on yourself, you look exactly like your brothers," Maysa murmured, "you are going to hurt them."

"Don't forget us," Lysander's voice might as well have been a breath, "We will return."

"I never doubt your words," The Empress' words were heavy.

"You have no reason to."

Maysa held out her hand into the open air. Lysander's three-fingered hand met hers. She split her fingers to match them to his.

"I don't think I could ever find myself to for get you, Democritus, Randolph, or Macabeth," Maysa choked. "But we must have a clean break," She added when Lysander attempted a hug, or what ever they did in ancient times.

"So, I suppose this is farewell," Lysander murmured.

"So it is," The Empress looked away to the floor, holding the jewel close, and out of my limited view.

"Farewell, Empress," It was obvious Lysander was trying to maintain composure. "We will return." He repeated himself as if he were trying to convince himself as well as Maysa.

"Farewell, Lysander," Her words caught, "I wish a safe journey, and a soon return."

I heard the door slide open and shut and Lysander's barely audible foot steps fad away before Maysa broke into sobs, clutching the dirty box.

I blinked and found myself nose-to-nose with Karai, she was standing over me like a shadow. "Stop whimpering! All of New York could have heard you!" She frowned. "Master told you it wouldn't kill you."

"When will it be done?" That was the only thing on my mind.

Karai shrugged, still frowning. I hoped her face froze. "In two days. Now, let me rest and stop fretting over it!" And with that she turned and left.

Two days was all the time I had to get out of here. Lysander's promise had only been a quarter finished. It was up to me to make sure the other three-quarters of the promise were fulfilled. And it was going to be! I had a feeling out story wasn't over quite yet.


	23. A Plan

I let out a moan. My foot where the cut was throbbed and my whole body burned. I tried to open my eyes, but they burned badly. I felt fuzzy too…almost as if I were still asleep.

"Raph?" The voice was distorted, but it sounded like Cally. Where was I?

"Cally?" I mumbled, "What are you doing here? I thought you hated me."

A good number of seconds pulsed by before I heard her respond. "What do you mean?" Her askew voice was echoing in my head. Why couldn't I hear her voice right?

"I'm the reason your parents died, if I had been there…" my voice faded off into misery.

"What if it wasn't your fault? What if they died if you had been there?"

"At least I would have tried," I felt my throat strain with frustration. "And you wouldn't be with Shredder right now…" I gritted my teeth as pain flew up my leg.

"What's wrong?" Cally inquired sounding a bit like Donnie.

"N-nothing, it's nothing, really," I muttered, "Just a little cut s'all."

"Where?"

"On the back of my foot." I flinched as she picked up my foot to look at it.

"It's inflamed, which means infection," Cally muttered, her voice still not coming out right. "How'd you cut it?"

"A rusty spring that stuck out from under the couch. My bro, Don, he's been meaning ta fix it," I gritted my teeth at prodding around the cut.

Cally just grunted, obviously dissatisfied. I groaned as the stinging intensified. "Disinfectant," Was all she had to say to my pain. I felt the rough texture of gauze wrapping around my foot.

"I went and poked around your apartment," I mumbled, still bearing the sting.

"What did you find?" She sounded oddly familiar, unlike herself as well.

"The Purple Dragons, they trashed the place," I felt a pang of remorse, perhaps she didn't want to talk about home.

"Hm," her voice was farther off, and I heard running water. "Why did you go there? It could have been dangerous," she came back, and laid something wet on my forehead, a washcloth for my fever.

"I had to know if you were still alive," I grumbled, I didn't want to sound like a suck-up, so I added, "I felt guilty."

"Does it hurt to talk?"

I knew she meant that if it hurt she would tell me to stop talking. But then it would mean she would go away, and I wanted to talk to her. "No," it only hurt a little, so it wasn't a true lie. The burning was somewhat better, thanks to the cloth.

"Why didn't you come to get me from Shredder?" Cally sounded a little taken back, making guilt cause the burning to return and twist my stomach.

"I tried…but Karai, she told me you hated me…" I choked.

"What told you that you could trust her?"

"It would have made sense that you would hate me after what happened," Guilt really started taking toll on my stomach. She was right. Why had I believed Karai? The fever continued to burn my face, especially my eyes. "Did Karai tell you I came?" I mumbled.

"You've been mumbling this whole time; it does hurt you to talk."

I shook my head, and then regretted it as it fuzzed my head over with pain. "It really doesn't," I could only whisper, it was a lie that time. It really hurt.

"Hmph," she sounded doubtful. "Do you know why Shredder wants h-me?"

"No," I murmured, it was I wanted to know more than anything.

"You need to sleep," She said it more as instruction than a suggestion.

"No, I don't," I frowned. I wanted to talk to Cally more. Tell her I was sorry.

"Yes, you do," Her voice was sounding less and less like her. Why? "If you don't you'll never be able to come get me."

I couldn't deny that. "Cally?" I had one last question. "Why don't you hate me?"

I could have sworn five minutes passed by before her distorted echoing reply sounded, "Because I love you. Now, sleep."

"Fine, whatever," I muttered, my face burning even more. I didn't like her, but I didn't know that she _loved_ me.

Slowly, left to my thoughts, I slipped into temporal, relaxing darkness. I only had one thing on my mind. I needed to rescue Cally.

* * *

I looked back at Raph from the table. He was already asleep. Who would have thought that he would have been the first of us? Now wonder he had been acting so strangely. I wondered how long they had been together. I wondered when and how they met.

But…what really worried me was the fact that he thought I was this girl. Cally, was her name. I didn't even have to disguise my voice. Maybe….that cut was more infected than I thought.

I couldn't tell the others about this. I felt bad for Raph. Maybe, I could do something on my own. Cally did need to be rescued…possibly, perhaps, without a fight, or without anyone knowing I went except Cally herself.

Tomorrow night. Tomorrow night would be perfect. Master Splinter was usually watching his nine o' clock soap opera, Mikey would be putting Clunk to bed, and Leo would be practicing in the dojo. Raph was no bother. He needed to stay down to rest with that fever anyway.

Why didn't he put disinfectant on the cut? I frowned. Raph had been doing a lot better since his episode the other night. He even got up to eat dinner with us. But now that cut. Had I not warned him about the rust on the spring? I fingered at the condensation on my glass of tea, of course with caffeine, I needed it.

Another thought hit me. If I did get Cally where would I take her? Leo or Mikey might find out if I took her to April's if they went over. Besides, April didn't have much room. She might have another renter in her basement. My thoughts momentarily flicked to Kirby, one of her former renters I met. We had quite an adventure, and he was left, stuck in the world he drew all on his own. But I needed to focus on this problem. Could I hide Cally in my room? It would be hard, and rather odd, but possible. It would be better to leave her with April. Then, I almost slapped myself in the forehead. April was out of town, visiting family. So I would have to hide her in my room. It wouldn't be worth the dispute to let anyone else know Raph's sneaky little secret.

I silently prayed it would work. Slipping over to my desk across the large room, I grabbed the duffle bag I had made habit of keeping with me. I slipped my glass cutter and other gadgets I thought would help inside.

"Don?" I flinched. It was Leo.

He glanced at my desk, then my duffle bag. "What are you doing?" He inquired, raising an eyebrow ridge.

"Uhm, cleaning," I answered, not meeting his eyes.

"Why aren't you in bed, sleeping?"

"I couldn't." It was true.

"Mm."

"Besides, Raph is sick."

"Since when?" He snapped.

I flinched momentarily before his face softened, he looked regretful so I went on not saying anything. "Tonight, obviously, he cut his foot on the rusty old spring I've not got around to fixing, and didn't put any disinfectant on it," I shrugged helplessly and sighed.

"Hmph," He sounded displeased.

"What's wrong with you?" It was common for Leo to be a slight grouch, never been quite the extremely tolerable person or a morning person, but he was grouchier than usual.

"Something's up with Raph, I don't know what, yet, but something's up with him." _You can say that again,_ I thought bitterly, my thoughts flickering to Cally. "You know anything?" Leo asked me.

I awoke from my thoughts. "Oh, uh, no," I said quickly. I regretted instantly. I never lied to Leo…ever.

"Tell me if you do find out anything, okay?"

"O-okay," it was another lie. I hoped this Cally character was worth it.

Leo stalked off, glanced at Raph, and went back to his room.

I sighed relieved, yet scared to death of the next night.


	24. Rescue And Fulfillment

**Lol, I usually don't do this, but I wondered how I could do something like this. Okay, I just renamed all the chapters. Instead of the whole chapter 1 part 2 thing. ^^ I think I did pretty well. I need to know what you readers think of the current relationship between Cally and Don. Not dating, but like how their rather timid around each other at first? Yes, there is a reason that Don is unusually hasty at warming up to Cally.**

* * *

I looked about the hall as I poked my head out my door. No one. I wondered why they didn't just keep me as prisoner or something.

Stairs, I was looking for stairs. I tiptoed up the hall, in opposite direction of Karai's room.

There was a turn to the left. A one-ways turn, if you didn't plan on takeing the elevator.

I peered around the corner. Again, no one. Silence. Something inside me told me this was too easy. Something else inside me told me it was good easy.

The door stood at the end of the hall, beckoning with the mind, leading to the staircase. And on at the top of the staircase was another door, entering to the top room. It was the room where this whole thing started.

I could hear my heart in my ears, pulsing fear. I swallowed before I made a break for the door. My bare feet stock to the hard wood floor, making noise against the fact I was on my toes.

I reached for the door knob, afraid someone would just come out of no where. I turned the knob and turned it slowly, as it started to creak I swung it open just enough to get through. The staircase was pitch dark, deathly dark. At least there was a mounted lantern here and there throughout the hall, but this was dark.

I was going to have to feel my way up the stairs. Wishing I had a flashlight or anything to give off light, I slipped inside, closing the door manually. It squeaked a little, and I flinched every time.

When the door shut, the staircase suddenly seemed colder. I turned around and trudged forward, slowly, until I felt a step at my toes. I reached for the railing and gripped it.

My heard could still be heard. The darkness suddenly seemed to be attempting to encase me in it's black, icy grip; and I expected blood shot red eyes to find me through the dark barrier every where I looked. Or perhaps, they would find me and really keep me as a prisoner.

I continued to feel my way up the steps with my feet, refusing the let go of the rail. Then, I felt a step too high to step up. It had to be the door. I felt like I had been trapped in the darkness feeling up steps for hours. I pressed my ear to the door. Silence.

I fumbled for the door knob for a moment, before I finally found its cool metal. Before I opened the door completely, I peeked in though a crack. This door didn't creak. The room was dark, but the moonlight seeped in through the windows, making everything seeable. I slipped inside, glancing around nervously. It was just me and the ruined armor. The soft light made everything have a shade of grey. Even the bright red rounded pitchfork over the door was a rather deep shade of grey.

I tiptoed across the tatami mats, glancing constantly at the armor, half expecting it to be watching my every move. As I came to the double doors below the red mark, I took the handle, as I did I realized with a sunken heart that I had left Socky on the bed. The only thing I had left from my parents. I couldn't go back now. He would have to stay here. I sighed.

I slowly opened the left door, still debating whether to get Socky or not. For obvious reasons, I sadly left him. I slipped outside, once again, closing the door quietly behind me.

I needed to find a staircase down the side of the building, just like at the orphanage. Our bakery building hadn't been big enough for one. But there should be one, I hoped.

I looked to the left. Maybe over there? Then, I saw a shape on the next building. It looked like Raph…and was that a duffle bag?

It definitely looked like Raph. I couldn't call out, someone might hear. So I waved desperately. Luckily, he was looking in my direction so he bounded forward and gave a leap to cross gap in between the buildings. The jump scared me, I had never seen anyone do that.

When he landed, I saw it wasn't Raph. This one was a lighter shade of green and wore a purple mask.

"You're not Raph…" I said slowly, not quite sure _what_ to say. He had to be one of Raph's brothers.

He looked at me. His face was a lot softer, his mouth wasn't in a frown, and his eyes were more round instead of narrowed. "No…" He replied slowly, looking just as uncomfortable. "I'm not." He rubbed behind his head, looking rather embarrassed.

"You're one of his brothers, aren't you?" I knew he was, but how else to approach.

He looked at me again and gave a slight smile. "Yeah, Donatello."

I heard some ruckus come from inside. "Uhm…you're here for me?" I started shifting my feet rather hastily; we had to get out of here.

Donatello nodded, "Yah, here." He bent down, "Get on my back." He sounded awkward about the idea, I was too. But I was desperate too, so I got on. He held under my knees to keep me on. I had to hold his shoulders. It was rather odd…because of his shell. "Ready?" Donatello asked, standing up rather fast to have someone on his back.

"As much as I need to be," I replied, and with that he took off. Bounding across buildings was terrible. Every time he did, I could just picture him missing and falling. He only slowed once, to get me to adjust the duffle bag.

Finally he stopped on top of what appeared to be an old warehouse. To my unexpected horror, Donatello jumped down into the alleyway.

Even when we were on the ground I refused to open my eyes.

"Cally?"

"Hm?"

"That is your name?"

"Yeah."

"You're cutting of my shoulder's blood circulation."

"Oh," I opened my eyes, releasing his shoulders. "Sorry." He let got of me and I had to regain balance when I was on the ground.

"You okay?" Donatello asked, putting a hand on my back to help stable me.

"Yeah…" I muttered a bit dizzy. "It's just, I'm not used to traveling that way," I smiled shyly.

"Oh, right," He started rubbing behind his head again. Must be rather shy. "I wasn't used to it at first either," He smiled back.

I felt my smile grow, realizing another piece of the promise had been fulfilled. "You know," I smirked, "you're nothing like Raph."

Donatello laughed, "There's something I _never_ realized." The light sarcasm was obvious. He walked over to a sewer lid and lifted it up before setting it back down to the side. "Ladies first," he stepped aside, gesturing to the dark, black hole. "I'll help you."

"Okay," I walked over to the hole and looked down into it, skeptical.

Donatello smiled sympathetically, "Here. Hold onto my hands till your low enough to grab the ladder with your hands." He held out both his hands. I nodded, and reached to take them. "Turn around first, it'll make it easier."

I did so, back to the sewer opening. "But scarier," I commented. The pity that grew on Donatello's soft smile told me that he was soft to other people. But even the soft people have a limit. I took both his hands and felt for the ladder with one foot. When I found it I put my other foot on it. I slowly went down until I was low enough to grab the handle. Donatello had a flashlight so he lit up the ladder so I could see where I was going.

When I was down, he called down, "Catch!" Before he dropped the flashlight. It danced on the tips of my hands before I finally caught it. When I looked up he was already in front of me.

Donatello was looking around until he pointed the way I was facing. "This way." I handed him the flashlight, allowing him to lead. I didn't want to; I had no idea where we were going.

As we walked, he started talking. "How long have you known Raph?"

Donatello already knew about me, but Raph had always said when we were little that no one knew about him coming up so I decided to lie. "Only a few months, about a week after my mom's bakery moved into town." That _was_ about when I re-met him.

"Mm…How long have you two been going out?"

I started coughing, out of shock. "We're n-not going out. Did Raph tell you we were?"

"Ah," Donatello sighed, "Raph doesn't know about me knowing about you. I'm the only one other than Raph that knows about you. Which is why I'm going to have to hide you."

"Hide me?" That worried me a bit. Hide me where?

"Yeah, don't worry, in my room," Donatello turned and gave me another pity smile with a little discomfort.

"Oh, okay, and uh Donatello?"

"What? Oh, you can call me Don."

"Okay, Don, do I get to talk to Raph?" I wanted to see him badly, show him I was okay.

Don shook his head, still walking, "Not till it's safe. No one else can know. Plus, he's sick right now."

"With what?" Mutant turtles got sick?

"It's an infection," He sighed.

"Oh…poor Raph." I wondered where he got the cut.

"Poor Raph?" Don laughed. "Oh… sorry," He gave a little smile, "I've just never heard anyone _pity_ Raph."

"Yep."

"Will he be okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, as long as he does as instructed."

"Okay." Then something hit me that should have when Don first said he was there for me. "How did Raph know I was alive? And how did you know where I was?"

Don sighed. A bad sigh. I looked down into the sewer water that I could hardly make out in the darkness. "I wasn't your first rescue mission," he murmured. "Raph went first, but Karai caught him. She told him you hated him, and that was enough. Obviously, he already felt guilty for not being there when your parents were killed.

"Stupid Karai," I muttered. She was such a brat. Then my thoughts flickered back to poor Socky, left alone. The only thing left…

Don gave a short laugh, "Karai doesn't exactly love us."

I snorted, "Obviously not." I felt full of disgust. Who did Karai think she was?

We walked a little in silence, mine in fuming silence, before Don spoke, "Here we are."

I cocked my head. It looked like a normal brick wall, just like the rest of the sewer.

"Cally, get on here," I turned to see Don rolling out a round dolly, with foot holds that looked almost like they came of a snowboard.

I nodded and put on of my feet in the hold, which he snapped into place around my shoe. He held it steady so I could get my other foot in the other hold, he also snapped that one into place. "What is this for?" I asked, staring down at my feet, waiting for them to betray me and leave me to fall on my bottom.

"Getting you through without being seen," Don explained, holding a teal tarp. He draped it over me, consuming me in teal darkness.

"You really went all out," I smirked. "Thanks."

"Well…uh…something had to be done. Shredder's not exactly the best person around…"

"Shredder?" Who was Shredder?

"He's the one that had you there. He wants to kill us. Now, stand still and be quiet."

I nodded, and then tried to stiffen to prevent myself from accidentally moving. I heard beeping and the sound of a sliding door, a bit one. So they disguised there home! Clever.

Then a voice spoke, reminding me to stay still. "Hey! Donnie, what you got?"

Donnie? I smiled, it sounded better than Don, to me. Don pushed me forward. "A project, Mikey."

"Ooh!" Mikey cooed. "Can I see?"

"No!" Donnie snapped as I saw a shadow appear from behind the tarp.

"Well…see…it's a surprise."

_Great, Don, how ya gonna cover that one up?_ I thought miserably.

"Awesome!" I heard Mikey clap his hands together. He seemed like a fun character.

"Donatello, when you put that in your room, can I talk to you about something?" a different voice called.

"Hm? Oh, sure, Leo," Don replied. "I'll be there in a minute."

Leo? Could he be Lysander? Well…his reincarnation.

I didn't hear Raph. Perhaps he was sleeping.

All I hoped for since my parents' death was right there, the fulfillment of the promise. All I had to do was move the tarp. But I couldn't or else it would be gone as soon as it was there.

Don said I had to wait till it was safe. How long would that be?


	25. Stranger At Home

**I found out something I was missing…Raph's accent. Not from the North soooo I kinda didn't know how to type it. But I'll be sure to add it now, and update all earlier posts with the accent.**

* * *

I silently watched Don roll in…whatever it was. Mikey was dawdling close behind, being Mikey. I sighed and turned around on the couch. I was bored. You get rather tired of TV when Mikey bursts in every time you turn it on begging to watch this or that. Mostly because Don told Mikey to let me have control of the TV since I was placed on the couch to be watched. I had a feeling it had more to do with my strange change in attitude than anything.

Donnie wouldn't let me get up either. I felt a lot better, the cut still stung a little, but I was banned from moving apparently. He said he found that I had a fever in the night and a cut on the back of my foot. I worried if I had talked in my sleep.

I laid back against the couch. My head still slightly burned, but it was a lot better than last night.

"Raphael," I looked over at the sound of Master Splinter's voice. He approached me with a cup of tea. "Drink this, it will help," He handed me the cup.

"Thanks, Masta Splinta," I nodded, taking the cup. "S'cold," I commented absentmindedly. Splinter usually made hot tea.

"Your brother, Donatello, said cold liquids would be better for your fever," he explained mildly.

I nodded taking a sip. Master Splinter watched me take a few more swallows. He glanced at Leo who was still practicing in the dojo, and walked over to him probably to offer a comment on structure or technique.

I drank the rest of the cooled tea. It tasted pretty good. Not as good as the iced tea April brought back from Georgia though. She's always bringing us stuff back from trips. I wondered what she would bring back from Maine. She was up there for her Grandmother's funeral.

"Donnie!" I heard Mikey wail. "I won't tell anyone, I promise! Pleeaase let me see?" I rolled my eyes. Mikey could be such a hatchling.

Don's muffed reply of a no sounded through his closed door. I closed my eyes, placing my hands behind my head.

Mikey's birthday _was_ coming up…but that thing was so big. I hoped it wasn't a life-sized model of one of those stupid superheroes that he loved to read about. He would bug us for months with it. Last year, he got a stuffed animal and some other stuff, but he was talking to that stuffed elephant for months! So much for being fifteen, but now he was going to be sixteen. I wondered if he would ever grow up.

Then, I wondered what Cally would think of my bros. I wondered what my bros would think of Cally.

* * *

"Wow…" Cally looked around in awe at my chemicals and what ever else. "This is amazing! You did this all yourself?"

I nodded, blushing a little out of embarrassment, "Yeah. Try not to break anything, I've got to go help Leo with something. I'll be right back."

Cally locked her hands behind her back, "Promise!" She smiled at me.

I smiled back and left the room, locking the door behind me. I turned around.

"Ah!" I jumped back, seeing Mikey's face grinning back into mine. Did he see her?

"Please?" He pleaded, clasping his hands together in beg.

"No," I frowned, walking away, only to be followed at the heels.

"Oh, please! I won't break anything for a _month_!" He wailed.

I snorted, wrinkling my beak, "I'd like to see that happen!"

"I'll do anything!" His voice droned out everything within 10 feet.

I crossed my arms over my plastron, "No."

"But I-"

"Michelangelo!" Splinter scolded. "If your brother wanted you to know, he would tell you."

"Yes, Master Splinter," Mikey sighed, trudging off. As he did he turned his head toward me and made a puppy dog face.

What a stupid phase for a fifteen-almost sixteen-year old to go through! Then again, Mikey was Mikey. I shook my head.

"Michelangelo, since you can find nothing better to do, why don't you practice," Master Splinter frowned.

"But, Sensei!" Mikey whined.

Master Splinter raised a furry eyebrow, "Michelangelo, _now_."

"Yes, Master Splinter," Mikey murmured, walking off to the dojo.

I walked over to Leo, who was now sitting at the table, occasionally glancing over at Raph. I looked over at Raph. He was bored, obviously, and was picking at the bandage around his foot.

"Raph!" He looked at me. "Don't do that!"

Raph snorted and turned to flipping through the channels. "I ain't no baby," he growled back, "Shell, I can pick at the freakin bandage if I wanna."

"Raphael!" Leo frowned. "Don is only trying to help you."

"Stuff it, Splinta Junior," Raph spat back. He only called Leo that when Master Splinter was out of earshot.

"He's horrid," Leo shook his head.

"Only worried," I replied, then bit my tongue when I realized I had hinted about Cally.

Leo eyed me. "Worried?" He raised a nonexistent eyebrow. "About what?"

"I-I'm sorry," I lied, thinking quick. "I'm in my own world tonight," I smiled shyly.

Leo smiled back, apparently buying it. "It's called less science, more sleep," he laughed lightly.

"Yeah," I scuffed my foot on the ground nervously. "You-uh-you wanted me?"

"Yes," Leo murmured, almost absentmindedly. "It's Raph. Normally, his anger is a pass-by, not always too rough. But lately…" He looked at me.

"I know," I sighed, thinking of Cally, who was doing who knows what in my room/lab. "We all know."

"He's our brother," Leo went on. "We can't leave him like this. He'll probably ended up hurting us and himself."

I nodded in true, honest agreement. I did want the old Raph back, the one that had at least a little sense of mild humor. I even had the cure. But I couldn't reveal it. What kind of brother was I?

"Raph wouldn't shoot you back like he would me for pressing," Leo frowned, "You're more likely to worry over him. Would you press? Maybe we could get a hint, maybe even an answer."

"Yeah, sure I can," I replied. _But…_I thought in secret tense frustration, _I need to get back to Cally. _"Though Raph probably needs to rest for know, asking questions with persisting attitude won't help at all." I shrugged, pretending to be helpless.

Leo smiled at me, "You need rest too, and I assure you watching Raphael get his will do nothing for you." He waved a hand to my room. "Go, I'll take care of him. And rest, Donatello, none of that working of the brain for you."

"Thanks, Leo," I smiled, really truly thankful.

I turned and tracked back to my room. I could feel burning into me on the way, but I simply ignored him.

I unlocked my door with a key that I kept hidden in my belt. I prayed that Cally hadn't broken anything.

When I opened the door, I saw everything in the same order, and Cally was looking around with her hands still clasped behind her back.

I smiled. She reminded me of someone…then again two someones, but I couldn't put my finger on it. She deserved to be rescued, she wasn't just some teenager off the street. Raph saw something in her, and I was beginning to too. But…she seemed so familiar…


	26. A New Friend?

**Sorry this is late! I had something going on a school, so yah. I'm not sure if I'm actually supposed to update this…if I'm having a beta reader read my story…I'm new to the whole beta reader thing. All I know is they critic your story…*sighs* **

**&&&&&&&&&&&**

When Donnie came into the room I looked up at him. "I, uh, I'm such a klutz, I thought it would be better if I kept my hands out of reach of anything," I smiled, slightly embarrassed.

Don smiled and closed the door behind him. "It's fine, at least you're not like _The_ Accident," He laughed lightly, sitting down at his desk.

I watched him, "The Accident?"

"Mikey," He replied lightly. "When he breaks something, which is pretty often, he usually does it shamelessly. If it was something really important, he'll be sorry then."

"He sounds like a hoot," I giggled. Mikey seemed like a very outward person, not the type to bottle things like Raph.

"He is," Don laughed with me. "But…he's a good brother."

I picked up a small robot out of the corner; it was covered in a thick film of dust as if it hadn't been touched for years. "I wished I could understand," I sighed sadly. "Always been an only child." I delicately brushed the dust off the little toy, being careful not to get any up my nose.

"Mm…" Don sounded like he had something in his mouth, and was hunched over his desk looking like a scientist…without the lab coat.

"What about Leo?" I inquired, curious. I was pretty sure he _was_ the reincarnation of Lysander and I wanted to know what kind of person he was. I was gently moving the arms of the robot around, making him wave and such. My mom always said I could be such a child. "What's he like?"

"Ah, he's the oldest," Donnie murmured, tapping his head with a pencil. His voice sounded rather absentminded, as if he actually didn't know he was talking since he was thinking so hard. "He always wants what best, which if Master Splinter hasn't told him what _is _best, it's what he thinks."

"Is Master Splinter a, uh," I didn't want to offend Don. I wondered if they were sensitive to them being mutated.

"-mutant too?" Don finished for me, his tone still light. "Yes, and its okay, we've been like this for a long time, we're used to it. Master Splinter is a rat though, unlike Leo, Raph, Mikey and I. He teaches us ninjitsu. We're ninjas."

I smiled, "So that explains the whole being able to jump building thing."

"Yeah," He replied with a laugh.

Curiosity took over and the question spilled out, "You were really shy at first…what happened?" I gripped nervously at the toy robot. Was that the wrong thing to say?

"I don't know…" Don scribbled something on a piece of paper. "You, uh, you're just an easy person to get used to." He turned and gave me a smile.

I smiled back, but it faded into a curious expression as he started to laugh. "What?" I cocked my head.

"I built that when I was ten," He smiled, reaching for the robot. I handed it to him.

"Ten?" I felt my eyes widen in amazement. "You the genius of the family?" I smiled.

Donnie blushed, "I wouldn't exactly say that…" He smiled. "There's a remote somewhere around here for it."

"And you built it when you where ten!" I grinned, still amazed.

Don put a finger to his lips. "They can't hear you either!" He hissed.

"Oh," I whispered, "Sorry." My stomach rumbled out in despair. "I get to eat though, right?"

"Of coarse!" Don laughed, "I won't starve you!"

"Starve who?!" Mikey's voice came through the door, making my heart drop.

"Me, Mikey, I was talking to myself, now go away!" Don called back, lying. For me…

"You talk to your stomach?" Mikey snickered.

"You do too! I don't want to hear a word out of you!" Don frowned.

I couldn't help but have to cover my mouth, trying not to laugh. They sounded like real siblings. I had seen some in the city when I hung out in the bakery on boring days. I sat there, suddenly finding myself trying to smell the mouth-watering cinnamon rolls. I found myself struggling, and unable to smell… Mom always smelled like her rolls… Dad….he smelled of cigar smoke…he never smoked, but a lot of people he worked with did.

I felt my lips form an involuntary deep frown and my vision blurred with tears. Don didn't notice, for he was still trying to get Mikey to go away.

"Go make sure Raphy doesn't need anything!" Was Donnie's reply to Mikey's plead to come in and see the "surprise."

"Okay…" Mikey muttered. His complaints died down as he walked away.

I started to cry, huge tears running down my face. I couldn't help but think how lucky Don was, he still had a family… I missed mine so badly…

"If you want…" Don said, turning back to me, "you can-hey…" His voice went from light to soft and concerned, and I felt his hand touch my back. "What's wrong?"

"I-I miss my parents…" I choked, struggling to breathe through the tears.

Donnie got out of his chair and knelt beside me. He simply rubbed my back, probably had nothing he _could _say. But…it was comfort enough.

"I c-can't even remember what her rolls smelled like…" I whispered, choking on tears. It probably sounded stupid, but it meant a lot…

"Hmm…" He murmured; sitting, listening, and rubbed my back. Almost exactly like a big brother would…or at least what I would want a big brother to do.

"They were my only family…" I sniffled, the tears were slowing down. "Since the fire…"

"The fire?" Donnie's voice was soft.

I nodded, sniffling again. "They weren't my birth parents… My birth parents died in a house fire when I was little."

"Wait…you said rolls. Were your parents the ones murdered in the bakery?" Don asked, sounding suddenly curious.

I nodded, "Yes…why?"

"Shredder had them killed?" His eyes widened.

"No…" I shook my head, "They came to me…they all had purple dragon tattoos on them. I was told they were the Purple Dragons."

"They work for Shredder…" Don frowned.

"S-so he lied to me? He really did have them killed?" My eyes widened to the lies that had been revealed.

Don nodded sadly, "Afraid so."

"B-but why?"

He seemed to think for a moment. "Usually…" He murmured, "He only kills those who are in the way of his plan…"

Something clicked. "Of coarse," I frowned, "They were in the way of his plan with me…"

Donnie's head flicked up and he looked at me, "What _did_ he want you for?"

I opened my mouth to tell him, wondering if he would even believe me. Even to me it sounded crazy, and I still doubted it was true, but it _was_ what he said he wanted me for. Then before I could talk, my stomach gave an even more desperate cry. I frowned and touched it, wanting to comfort it.

Don stood up, "Why don't I get you some food? Hard to think with a stomach like that, I know." He smiled.

"That'd be great," I smiled, trying not to think about anything that we had just talked about, "for the hungry dragon."

"Yeah, for the dragon," He echoed absentmindedly. Then he shook his head; touched the top of my head; and turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

I smiled a real smile for the first time in a while. Don was like a brother. I messed around with the robot, still trying not to think about my parents or Shredder. I didn't mind looking for the remote, I was still nervous about breaking something.

I looked down at the robot, studying it, and remembering how Don had blushed slightly when I called him a genius. He had to be shy. Shy and smart, I smiled. It was a good mix. Donnie was a great guy, I decided, still messing with the robot.


	27. Weirder and Weirdest

**I have a horrible, horrible case of writers-block for this story, sooo the next one may be late! Sorry! **

******And for my un-reviewing readers: Please review!******

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I glanced at Don, and received a shock. Was he _strutting_ into the kitchen? I frowned. Last time he did that…he was _trying_ to act natural. Leo, the O' Knowledgeable Leader, totally missed out on it. I decided to eavesdrop, just so I would actually accomplish something other than sitting on this darned couch.

"Don," Leo sighed with a frown, "I thought you were resting."

"I am," He replied with an obvious strain to his voice, "I, uh, I'm just hungry." Don opened the fridge and leaned into it.

Leo, the now O' Oblivious Leader, shook his head and sighed _again. _I couldn't help but wonder why he just sat at the table. Mikey, however, was stuck in the dojo, practicing, for bugging Donnie. I smirked; at least I could watch TV in peace. But…this was more interesting. Seeing the "Fearless Leader" be totally oblivious to Don's act. What _was_ up with Don?

Don came out with four pieces of pizza. Only four? I frowned. Then he reached in again and brought out a soda. He glanced at the four pieces of cheese pizza and the coke, almost skeptical, then nodded and started to walk back to his room. He balanced the food in one hand, and made off for his room with a quickened pace.

As I watched him, he reached for the back of his neck, then stopped himself and pulled something out of his belt before opening his door and stepping in with the food.

Don was acting as strange as me when I re-met Cally… I wondered if it had to do something about that "surprise" he mentioned. Then again, Don was probably overworking himself, again, over the thing. But…what if the same thing was happening to him? Was out whole family gonna end out like this?

* * *

When I went back into my room, Cally was still sitting on the floor, messing with the toy robot. Then, I realized the two someones she hit me as: Mikey and Leo. Curious yet cautious.

"I brought some pizza," I smiled, sitting down in my chair and holding out the plate to her.

"Yum," Cally smiled, taking a slice. "Thanks."

"No problem," I smiled back, "A soda too." I handed her the chilled can.

She nodded her gratitude through a mouthful of cheese pizza. As she opened it, she swallowed and asked, "If you have to live in the sewers and hide, where do you get all this?"

"Friends," I replied, then took a bite. I gulped it before continuing, "One of them owns the little antique store a few buildings down from the bakery."

Cally's eyes lit up, "Oh! You mean the woman with bright red hair, usually pulled up?"

I nodded with a smile, after what happened earlier the smile was good to see. "Yeah, that's April."

"I've seen inside from the windows. Seems like a cute, little shop."

I thought for a moment, "I might get you to stay over there. When April's back from Maine, that is. It would be safer…she'd understand the situation."

"Oh…" Cally looked a little upset.

"What's wrong?" I asked before I popped the crust in.

"Nothing…" She murmured, staring at the door.

"I know, you'll get to see him," I assured softly, "Promise."

"I know…but I'm worried," She kept her eyes on the door.

"About Raph? He'll be fine," I smiled, "Nothing to worry about." From the way Cally talked about Raphy, I wondered if he had a totally opposite side from that he showed us.

"Okay," Cally muttered through a stifled yawn.

I forced myself not to catch it. It _was_ getting late. "Why don't you go ahead and sleep on my cot?" At the time, it didn't cross my mind to ask again what Shredder wanted from Cally again since she had eaten.

"What about you?" She asked.

"Oh, its pretty normal for my brothers and I to fall asleep watching movies," I smiled, "I usually sleep in the chair in the den."

All of a sudden, her face twisted. "D-Donnie?" She stammered, quickly losing facial complexion. "I think," She covered her mouth with a hand, unable to continue.

She needn't say more. I snatched the wastebasket and placed it in front of her. This happened to Mikey every time he overate. But…all she had was a slice of pizza, hadn't even touched her second one. I wondered if they had underfed her…or fed her at all. Then again, she didn't appear underfed. I frowned, maybe the pizza was bad.

Cally leaned over, gripping the sides of the basket-luckily I put plastic bags in mine, since I sharpen pencils in there-and hurled. I covered my mouth, praying that the pizza wasn't bad, and looked the other way. Just because it happens every once and a while doesn't mean that I can watch. I might do the same as she was doing.

She coughed and then gasped before she started coughing again. "Oh no…" She managed to get out between coughs.

I looked up and just stared. A small light was emerging from the basket. Cally looked just as awed as I felt.

"What is it?" I hissed, unwilling to speak normally. Neither was I willing to look into the basket now filled with 2nd time pizza and who knows what else.

"I-it's a long story," Cally murmured, still staring. "Do you have a napkin or anything?"

I turned to my desk and picked up my most tattered and stained rag. I was going to throw that one away. I used the rags to wipe excess oil off, what I call, my new works of art.

Cally reached in with the cloth and brought out the light source. As she held it in the middle of the cloth I saw an orb, crystal it appeared. It gave off light, but not enough to hurt my eyes.

"D-did that come out of…" My voice faded off. Was this all some weird dream? Was I going to wake up with one of my brother's hanging over me to tell me I was sick? This night was seriously getting weirder and weirder.

Cally nodded, "Its what Shredder wanted." Her voice was just a whisper. So that's why he wanted her, but why the crystal? She continued, her voice still hushed, "They were planning to put a tracer in me, but it was scheduled in two days."

I watched as she wiped it clean then hold it in her hand. "Just throw the cloth away," I told her. Cally threw it into the wastebasket.

"Can I?" I held out my hand toward the jewel.

She nodded and placed it in my palm.

Somehow…it looked familiar. I played with it before I turned and put it under my microscope. Strange…it appeared to be some form of crystal, yet it did not have the proper structure. In fact, it had no recognizable structure. I frowned, thinking, but soon gave up as the possibilities were easily ruled out against this orb.

I took it back in my hand and tapped it lightly with a screwdriver, hard enough to test how delicate it was but not to where it would break if it were. _Why would Shredder want this?_ I thought. Then, as I tapped it, it made a dinking sound, just as something would if it were hallow.

"Amazing," I whispered, holding it up to the light. Despite the obvious fact that it was hollow, you could not see through it. Nothing in the books I had read or found had such a structure or properties.

"But…" I dared to ask, "how did this get inside you?"

Cally started to speak, but closed her mouth, as if she were choosing her words carefully. She paused a few seconds before speaking, "Like I said earlier, it's a long story…an old one too."

"Really?" I pricked an eyebrow ridge. What was she getting at?

Cally nodded, "D-does it seem familiar to you? The jewel I mean.

I flicked my sight from her, then back down to the jewel. "Yes…" I replied slowly, "Yes, it does." I eyed her. How would she know?

"It isn't the first time you've seen that," She murmured.

I stared at the jewel a moment longer. "What do you mean?" I inquired, looking at Cally. This was the first night we had met, yet this was getting even weirder.

Cally shook her head, "This isn't the first time we've met either."

I stared at her. This was making no sense. What was going on?

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**Just a little footnote: Looked up the name Cally. It means "bright-eyed." Kinda fits in, doesn't it?**


	28. Difficult Decisions

**A few of my readers wonder what happened to a dear and appearing lost character. Perhaps he hasn't been forgotten. ;) **

**To my un-reviewing readers: Please review!!! You will be luved! ^^**

**As Don uncomfortably watches the movie, Raph watches Don with his suspicions, and Cally tosses in her sleep: **

A small black car pulled up into an alley way, beside an old abandoned warehouse. Two men exited both sides of the front seats. They walked around to the back of the car, they wore a basic T-shirt and pants. Nothing suspicious. Until the two walked around the back and the larger one opened the trunk. The two reached in, each grabbing and arm and pulling a young man with auburn hair out. They pulled him up and set him on the ground.

"Let me go!" The young man screeched with terror, "I know nothing!"

The two men still gruffly held an arm of the terrified victim. One of them had a small

go-T that widened under his lip as he grinned, the grin could have been crawling with bugs and wouldn't have looked any different. "We know that you know exactly what we need," He chuckled.

The other man remained silent, flicking his narrowed eyes back and forth every once and a while.

The young man whimpered and tried to shrink down, but the go-T man pulled him back to his feet extremely roughly. The two kidnappers dragged the man into the building that appeared abandoned. The quiet one took their prey by both arms while the other opened the door into the building. The only light trickled in through the window in form of moonlight. Inside was scattered with stacks of boxes that were covered in dust and cobwebs where the spiders could manage.

The two men dropped their captive, who instantly fell to his knees. A larger man walked out from the shadows and approached the young man, cracking his knuckles. "Let's get this taken care of, shall we?" He lifted his right eyebrow, revealing a scar. His blonde hair was pulled back into a short ponytail.

The scarred man crouched down in front of his victim who was looking more like a bird looking into the eyes of a snake. "Let's talk a little about you. Do you have a job?"

The auburn haired man quickly shook his head, and shrank a bit as his captor laughed, a laugh that had no pure joy whatsoever.

"Of coarse you don't!" The man boomed. "The owners of your job were murdered, their daughter is no where to be found, and _you_!" He shook his head, "Oh…my dear friend," He patted his captive's shoulder making the young man shake even worse. "You are running for your life because you are the police's first suspect and are hot on your tail." The large man's natural growl brought out a bellowing cackle.

"H-how do you know?" The victim squeaked, his eyes growing.

The scarred man gave one last deep, short laugh, "We have are way of….getting around." He gave a wink full of malevolence and schemes.

A small burst of courage caused the young man's chest to puff out. "What do you want with me then?" He slurred out, as if the question were about to explode inside him.

The glower of the captor disintegrated any left over courage in the captive. "That, is our next address," He replied curtly. "We _had _the girl. All that we needed, went through quite a bit of trouble for her you know. That, unfortunately, caused the trouble to turn to you."

A flash of anger split on the young man's face, but was as gone as fast as a falling star, being overtaken by cowardice.

"She escaped," The man continued, "She knows who we are and what we did. But, we need her back. It won't be easy, and she isn't quite worth out bother."

The shrinking prey gulped, realizing that the tables were slowly turning to him.

"The girl knows you," The scarred man smirked at the fear he could inflict with no effort. "She _trusts_ you."

"W-what do I do?" The auburn haired captive's face was full of wishes that he knew couldn't come true.

"You, find the girl and bring her here," The captor shrugged, "tell her its safe, leave and we get the girl. Its quite simple."

The young man frowned, "What makes you think I would give you Cally?"

The man leaned back and looked at the ceiling, still in a crouched position, he pretended to think. "Ah, Cally's her name, sounds like such a doll." A smile that matched the former wink crept up on to his face like a centipede up a wall. "Perhaps, she'll be worth _this,_" He held up a glass bottle with a folded piece of paper, closed by a cork.

The captive's eyes lit up, "Where'd you get that?"

The scarred man kept his smile, "Found it during our little messy part of the plan." He shrugged, "Thought it might help pay a little for the trouble."

After a minute of staring at the bottle with longing glinting his eyes, the prey shook his head, "No, she isn't worth it."

The abductor grinned and leaned close to his victim, "I don't think _you'll_ like this, but is she worth your life?"

The young man's eyes brimmed over with fear. He shifted, chewing his lip, and considering his narrow options. "Alright," he murmured finally, "I'll do it."

"Good," The scarred man gave a brisk nod, "I think you'll like that decision as much as we do."

The young man looked away and frowned, his eyebrows scrunching. It was obvious he was already regretful of his final answer.

"Cheer up," The larger man punched his prey's shoulder, knocking him over. The captive quickly sat back up, shook himself off and rubbed his shoulder sympathetically. "You'll see our way pretty soon."

But…," The man frowned, "You have a time limit. One week to carry out our little plan, or you'll be in for an unexpected…'surprise.'"

The victim gulped, shifting nervously, and nodded. He refused to look his captor in the eye.

"I'm sure you'll do it," The man smiled, standing up. He tossed the bottle to the young man who caught it and clutched it to his chest, frowning. "It's just a little something for your trouble." Then, he turned and walked to the door, followed by the two other men who emerged from different corners. The captor turned, "Remember, Kyle, one week."

They walked out the door, leaving Kyle behind in the dark, clutching the bottle and staring at the floor. The door closed with a bang.

After the car engine had started up and driven out of hearing distance, Kyle planted his face in his hands and moaned, "Ooh…what know?" He took his hands away and stared down at the bottle. He took it in his hands and squeezed it with anger until his knuckles turned white.

"It wasn't worth it," he hissed, "I should have known that it was _never_ worth it!"

Kyle stood up, his breath rigid. He tossed the bottle across the room and listened with clenched fists to the shattering and scattering of glass.

"You darned recipe!" He hollered. "Look at what you did! I went for you, worked for those smile loving goops for _you_! I even skipped _Harvard_ for you! My dream, my dad's dream…" He looked away then continued his rage. "I…I was going to take you where you belonged! The world could have tasted you! I could have been _rich_!"

Tears streamed down Kyle's face, "And I _can_ be rich…" The thought tempted him. "No-now, because of you, I either lose my life…or Cally's."

He fell back onto his knees in racking sobs. "Oh…Cally doll…sweet Cally doll." He choked for a moment. "She truly, really, is a doll. She was the only one worth those days. But her parents never would have approved of a man three years older than their daughter.

"I'm sorry, Cally," He whispered, before placing his head in his hands. A small draft blew through a broken window on the other side of the old warehouse. Kyle felt something catch his knee. Lifting his head, he saw the recipe. He took it in his hand. Even though it was almost unfolded his averted his eyes and folded it back before slipping it into his pocket.

He sighed and stood, trying to hold everything together. Kyle knew what he had to do, no matter what it cost him; and even as he walked out of the warehouse hoping he would wake up in his bed and be late, once again, for work, a plan was churning in his mind.


	29. Uncovered Past

**Sorry I haven't published in a while! Testing is coming up…Bleh…honestly I like the finals better, at least we get half days for those! Plus…I had writers block…bad writers block. A few weeks of good books fixed that problem. ^^ Mary Higgins Clark never stops getting my butt to the edge of my seat. **

**I found a song to go to this story! I heard it on the radio, it's on my profile. **

**My Immortal-****Evanescence**

I couldn't sleep. I tried every position. My stomach hurt, back was straight out uncomfortable, and sides were no help. I had been in Don's room for two days. He usually didn't come in much but to give me food and at night to talk for a bit. I guess he was rather still uncomfortable with me in his room. For the record, I was too, but it was the only way. Nothing had happened, luckily. No one had found out about me…though it was killing me that Raph was just outside. He walked around now, I could hear him talking sometimes even, but I was stuck in here. I wondered why Donny was so obbsessed with not letting anyone find out. Why not just Raph?

For the slightest second, my mind jumped to Kyle. The second changed, and I thought about him longer. What could have become of him? Would this freaky Shredder guy get him? I frowned. Poor Kyle might even be the first suspect to this whole thing. My dad had always said that during a case of disappearance or murder, they always go to the person that was around them the most, on a basis or not.

Kyle's laughter still echoed in my mind. He had been such a funloving, happy person, easy to get along with. If I had my phone, I would try to call him. But my phone was still in my room. On my bed.

I sighed, feeling under the cot for the robot. He had been my friend these past few days. I didn't have to talk outloud to him. I had to stay quiet. Thank goodness this April girl was coming home tomorrow. Don told me. He had strengthened the rules after Master Splinter had said he sensed a difference in the home. I wondered how he would get me there. Probably the way he got me in…as his "project."

My fingers caught something. It wasn't Robby. Instead, I was feeling the worn down cover of notebook. Dust that coated the cover stuck to my fingers. I made a face, but pulled the notebook out. The layer of dust was think…really thick. It had obviously not been touched for a while. Picking it up, I blew most of the dust off and brushed off the rest. I opened it. The pages were wrinkled and browning, the writing was rather sloppy and done in worn lead of a pencil by the thickness and lightness of the words. On the inside of the cover a date was written. A date from six years ago. A journal. Most likely Don's, in fact it was. His name was written on the cover.

Feeling kind of guilty about it, I started reading the first entry:

_Dear journal, _

_ Master Splinter gave you to me becuz he wants you to me my secret holdr and to help me practic my speling. He said not to tell Raph or Mike or Leo. I got mine first becuz I have almost pased my speling. Tooday Leo was bosy during traning. He always is. Raphy made a meen naim for him, Splinter Juniur. Raph says it wen Master Splinter is not around. Raph teeses to much. He is not so nic. Mike can coler in the lins now. He needs to lern wat coler things ar. He colers the trees purpl and blu. Raph disaperd tonite. Leo got mad. I agree with Raphy's nicknam. Leo worees to much. I hav to go to bed._

I smiled. I could see Raph doing that. I flipped through the next few weeks. It was the same thing. Mikey needs to stop…Mikey did that…Raph pranked…Raph said…Leo told…Leo did not… But one thing I noticed made me think:

…_Leo got mad at Raph for trying to go up the lader. Raphy said he was not going to, but Leo doesnt trust him. Raph said he did not care…_

I wondered if Raph and I had met by then. Each entry was dated, but I didn't remember any dates. I flipped three more pages and came across another thing that wrenched my heart:

…_Raph went for another walk, but when he came back he was not happy. He went to bed and didn't eat dinner or bother with Leo…_

Even though it could have been because of anything it made me think of the time I left Raph. I hadn't known it was that far away though… As I read the next entry my theory seemed more real:

…_Raphy sat in a corner today. He did not tease or eat. Just sat. Master Splinter said to leav him alone, that maybe he is sick. I thnk that Master Splinter knows that he's really sick, but not the way he made it out to be to Mike or Leo. I know though…_

I flipped another good number of days, hoping it would change, but the next entry made me feel sick with guilt:

…_Raphy's better today. It has been a week. He ate and trained today, but there is something different. He yelled at me when I bumped the toy robot I made into him. He yelled at __Mike when he called him Raphy. Raph's mad today…real mad…_

The next entry Don talked about Raph's personality change and the next and the next. I felt the tears coming. I recalled the night I had saw him for the first time since I had left. He had yelled at me. _"…__you changed my personality and my life; and you come back and all you have to say is 'sorry'?!" _I bit my lip. I hadn't tried to understand. I had simply made excuses. I wiped the tears away, trying not to cry. Raph wasn't the jerk, I was. He even tried to help me, came to get me. I frowned, remembering how Don had told me that I hated him. I gently put the journal back under the cot, feeling as though someone had turned my heart upside down. It might have well been.

I looked over at the door. I had made it two days. He had said not to leave, but I had to talk to Raph. They were all probably asleep anyways. I walked over to the door and unlocked the door and peeked out. It was too dark to see the floor I noticed with a frown. But I could see shadows in front of a TV that had the credits rolling down. I could hear snoring too.

I stepped cautiously out of the room. I couldn't really see where my feet were going so I had to trudge to feel with my feet like I did in the stairwell two nights ago. I felt my pocket and felt the lump of the jewel. It had given me reassurance these past few days. The concrete floor was cold under my feet despite the hot summer season. I wondered if any temperature of the weather reached to down here. I also wondered if I should have put my socks back on.

As I got closer, I made out three heads. Two of them were slumped on the couch and one in the chair next to that. When I was in front of the back of the couch I saw the fourth, an orange clad, sitting in front of the couch. Raph was on the right side of the couch with Don in the chair next to that. A blue clad was beside Raph leaning on the left side. I wondered which of the orange and blue was Mikey or Leo. But that wasn't my main goal.

I looked over at Raph, who was the snorer. I reached to wake him, but before I could something harshly grabbed my wrist. I almost screamed with pain, but bit my tongue. I looked over to see that the blue banded one had grabbed me. His eyes were so penetrating that I knew it couldn't be Mikey. So I didn't the first sane thing I thought to do:

"Hi Leo."


	30. Out Of The Bag

**Sorry I haven't posted in a while! I just finished exams and got out of school. YAY! I'm starting a new thing, I'm going to label who's talking in the section. ^^ **

**As usual: Reviewers will be luved!**

_Raph:_

I awoke in a cold chill. Nothing seemed right, everything felt wrong. My mind felt slurred. I couldn't figure out where I was or supposed to be.

A shrill scream shook me up. I looked around and all I could see was a maze of buildings. They seemed to tower over me and taunt me.

"Raph!" The scream sounded again. This time, I recognized it as Cally's voice.

"Cally!" I called back, turning around, but all I could see were the buildings. "Cally, where are you?"

"Help!" She cried, sounding desperate "I'm over here! Help!"

My heart started pounding, where was here? I took a path to my right that had suddenly appeared. "Cally!" I called, waiting for a reply.

"Raph!" Cally had managed to drag my one syllable into three. Not good, and her voice sounded father away. So I turned and ran back in the other direction.

When I got back to my starting point, it wasn't the same. The bakery where Cally had lived stood before me. Not eager to go inside, I pushed the already partway open door. I stepped inside and looked around. A glass counter sat in the center with pastries and cakes all in one piece. In fact, everything was in one piece. The mess that had been there was now gone. "Cally?" I called softly, almost rather scared-I'm reluctant to admit. How could a destroyed room be in one piece within four days?

"Raph!" Cally's voice echoed from the staircase that led up to the apartment.

I ran toward the door and looked inside the staircase. Nothing. I went up the stairs and swung the door open, almost scared of what I would find.

When I went in, a panic stricken Cally stood before me. The loose tremble of her mouth told me that she had fear. But of what? Her grass green eyes were firm though…not like Cally at all, but she had fear overflowing in them.

I approached her and hugger her. She was cold…like ice. It startled me, but for now, I ignored it.

"Come on," I said, holding her wrist. "Lets go. We need to get out of here."

Cally shook her head, "No, I want to stay home." She frowned, "I want to stay with my parents." Her voice reminded me of a little girl…a lost little girl.

I shook my head, "They're gone Cally…gone." I tugged her hand lightly, "Come on."

"No," Cally's voice shook, "They're not. They can't be." She stood firm, "I'm staying."

I frowned, "Cally." Then I noticed something I hadn't before. The walls were disintegrating around us. "Come on!" I urged desperately, "We need to get out of here!"

But Cally still stood firm, and she took a harsh grip onto my arm. The fear in her eyes was gone, replaced by anger. Her trembling mouth now stood in a firm frown. The walls were now eternal darkness. The floor was now on its way. "It's your fault," She muttered, glaring at me as if she could watch my stomach turning flips. "It's your fault they're dead." The floor was soon gone, it only left enough for me and Cally to fit.

As she lifted her foot, I knew what she was going to do. "Cally, please," I sounded like a desperate victim in a murder movie, "Things will change, I promise."

I was too late, Cally's voice caught a leg. I couldn't fight Cally, I couldn't and I wouldn't. My legs flew out from under me and suddenly, Cally and the circlet of floor was gone. I was left, falling into eternal darkness. A black hole made for me. And I deserved it.

Karai's voice echoed through the darkness, "Cally blames you, Raphael…Even if you are lucky enough to see her again, it will never, _ever_ be the same."

Suddenly I hit the ground hard. I looked around and breathed in a lovely smell of a sight. Home. It had all been a dream.

"So," I looked down to see Mikey sitting in the floor in front of me with a wide grin, "Who's Cally?"

Hold. My. Tongue.

_Leo:_

My mind was racing. Who was this girl? What did she want with our family? Why was she wanting to talk to Raphael? Where did she come from? When did she get into our home? How did she know about us in the first place?

I had drug her back up to the surface, just outside the warehouse we use as a garage. As usual, the street just outside the small area was empty. It was too dangerous to question her in our own home. "Who are you?" I hissed at once.

She searched my face for a moment before answering, "Cally."

I frowned, "That doesn't exactly help me." I wondered if she worked for someone.

Cally frowned as well, but not a serious frown. "I know that. I answered your question though, did I not?"

"Yes, you did, but it's not what I need to know," I shot back.

"Then tell me what you need to know. You're not the greatest detective," she replied with a slight smile.

I lifted an eyebrow ridge, "And what would you know about detective work?" I felt the answer might give me a slight lead.

"There you go, Leo, you're getting better at this," Cally grinned. "My father was a police investigator."

"Why was? What is he now?" I asked, pushing farther into the question and answers. "And how do you know my name?"

"He's dead is what he is," Cally frowned softly. "And names are the easy part of the job, he taught me that."

I almost asked how she knew about us, and more of how she knew my name. You don't just pull the right name out of the air. But I had a feeling that she wasn't going to answer. It still bothered me though. "I'm sorry to hear, but you need to go home." I frowned. "I'll go with you to make sure you get there." More of which, I wanted to make sure she really wasn't a threat. But if she was, why wouldn't she have attacked by now? I frowned, planting a bug. I would have Don scan tomorrow.

Cally suddenly looked hurt, as if I had insulted her or something of the sort. "I wish I could, but I can't," She sighed, looked out into the city.

What did she mean by that? "Why not?" I asked.

"My mom is dead to. They're both dead and no one even knows I'm alive…I'm sure of that," She replied gently.

"And…so…what were you doing in our home then? How'd you get in?" I demanded. I felt for her, but still, the puzzle wasn't coming together just right yet. Was it possible that the security system was broken? Then, something else completely off the subject jumped into my head. The biggest murder case yet in New York City. A baker and her husband, the new sheriff of the city, found dead in their own bakery, the daughter is no where to be found and was declared missing. "Wait…you're the baker's daughter…aren't you?"

Cally seemed relieved. I wasn't sure that it was because I left the other question alone or that I had figured out who she was. "Yes," She nodded.

I was about to ask where she had been and why she hadn't gone to a police yet. But before I could, Donatello burst out of the garage holding the turtle tracker.

"Cally, why are you-" He saw me and the color drained from his faded green complexion. "Oh," was all that he had to say.

This, was getting interesting.


	31. Answers

_**Sorry this is taking a while to update. I'm going to be putting my other story on hold till I finish this one, too much at once. **_

_**To my non-reviewing readers: You will be luved for reviewing ^^**_

_Cally: _

My heart dropped straight into my stomach. I felt more guilt than I ever had before in my life. The one thing Don had mainly wanted me _not_ to do, I had done. He had been kind enough-even though kind was part of his natural personality- to hide me in his room to keep me safe and I had ruined it all. And it just happened to be the night before he snuck me out and over to April's where he would find himself safer as well as me. At this point, I would have done anything to not have done what I had done.

I didn't look at Donnie. I didn't want to, even though he was looking at me. Leo simply look rather intrigued.

"You know her?" Leo asked casually, but I could tell from my dad that his curiosity was sitting on a dangerous edge. He didn't seem much like Lysander.

Don nodded, he seemed half afraid to talk. He was probably still thinking of what to say.

"How?" Leo inquired again. From what I saw, it looked like he was seeing right through poor Donnie.

Donatello bit his lip, looking unsure of himself. So I spoke up, "He rescued me from that Shredder man, sooo…yeah…" my voice faded out as Leo stared at me like a child who had spoken out of turn.

Leo turned back to Don, "So you rescued her from Shredder? On your own?" His frown was deep and his eye brow ridges scowled into his eyes in frustration. When Donnie nodded, Leo appeared even more upset. "Are you crazy?" He hissed. "You could have been killed!"

Donnie looked away. "I know," he said softly, "but Cally had already escaped herself."

Leo's eyes flashed. "What do you mean escaped on her own?" He gave me a menacing glance that made me want to shrink back behind Don. I stood ground though, I didn't quite want to hid behind Donnie, but Leo made be feel vulnerable just standing here.

"I don't quite know what happened," Donatello admitted, "but before I could do anything, she was on top of the building, waving at me."

"And that didn't look the least bit suspicious?" Leo demanded. "Unless you already knew who you were looking for."

Don's face suddenly lost a good number of shades of green again. I knew why. He didn't see any way to get around spilling Raph's secret. He didn't really tell me how he figured out the secret either, but the point was that he knew it. Though Donnie didn't know our full story either.

"Donatello," Leo's voice was grave, "how do you know Cally? Do _not_ lie to me." Softness passed across his face, "Donnie, it's not like you to lie like this." But it passed like a cloud on a windy day and once the sentence had been spoken, the dangerous expression returned to his face.

Then the first thing that I could think of to possibly help the situation I spoke out so fast it was almost a slur. I didn't like this situation one bit and I was ready to get out of it. "If I leave will you forget this?" It wasn't likely that Leo would forget. He wasn't much like Lysander at all. Neither did I know where I would go. I suppose I could go find somewhere to stay till the next day and go to April's. But if anyone that knew who I was found me, I would be taken to the police. That would be the news would want to publish my finding as soon as it was out and that would let Shredder know where I was. And he would probably send out people for me.

"Not likely," Leo spat with fierceness, "and neither are you going _anywhere_ until I find your connection with out family." He scowled. Before anyone could do anything else, a loud crash came from the garage. We all turned to see Mikey tearing out of the old warehouse.

"Leeeooo!" He wailed, running to his eldest brother and throwing his arms around him. I noticed that he was rather muscular, like his brothers; but it didn't quite match his innocent and little boy-like features on his face. "Save me…" He whimpered.

"From what?" Leo frowned in concern awkwardly trying to shove the attatched turtle off of himself. He graced me another penetrating glare.

"Raphy," Mikey hid his face in Leo's under-shell of a chest despite his attempts to pry his little brother off. "He's super mad, dude."

Loe's face lost most the hostility that had been there. "What did you do this time?" Leo sighed making it sound like an angry Raphael after his little brother was pretty common.

"Well," Mikey started, sounding less scared as he straightened himself out and off of his brother, "Raphy was having a nightmare and talking in his sleep. But the only word I heard was 'Cally.' So I woke him up and asked who Cally was. He just exploded and now he chasing after me and is going to _kill me!"_ He cried out "kill me" like a whining two year old. But I didn't really care, my ears had pricked at my name and so did Leo's. His eyebrow ridges went up, waiting for Mikey to continue. But he failed to, because he saw me. "Dude!" He grinned, "Who's the dudette? She your girlfriend?" Mikey looked at Donnie.

"No!" Don frowned, "Cally is _not_ my girlfriend. Just a friend." Despite his frown, an embarrassed look passed over his face.

"Cally?" Mikey grinned again, "So she's _Raph's_ girlfriend." He laughed. "Dudette, why?"

"Because I'm _not _that's why," I frowned. "And just for the record, I'm not dating anyone."

"That's what they all say, dudette," Mikey laughed. His smiled immediately vanished as a voice echoed from the garage.

"Miiikeey!" A loud growl tore out. I looked at Mikey. Was what he said he did _all _he did? Raph sounded _mad._

Mikey shrunk back behind Leo. Donnie looked a bit concerned as he watched for Raph, but Leo simply crossed his arms over his chest and held an impatient look. The same look my dad gave me when he found me beside a broken version of Mom's favorite lamp. Leo wanted answers I realized. Mikey had spilled that Raph knew me and Leo was going to get the answers he wanted out of Raph one way or another.

"Mike, I swear," Raph stalked out of the garage. His eyes glinted with anger and every foot step looked like it came off of the death path. Then, he saw me. Raphael blinked, as if in astonishment. His usually narrowed eyes grew round. "C-Cally?" He blinked again.

I gave him a gentle smile, but before I could say anything, Leo butted in. "So you do know her." The facial expression stayed the same.

"And why would dat be any of yer concern, Leo?" Raph spat back in a snarl. He shot me a quick smile in return.

"Because," Leo scowled back, sparks of anger flew between the two, "your friend here was in our _home._"

A look of surprise caught on Raphael's face. He glanced at me, then Don who could give nothing but a sorry smile. "I-I don't get it," He said after a while.

"Why not?" Leo frowned. His face softened just a bit, but it was hard to tell.

"How'd ya get away?" Raph asked me, his scarred northern accent soft.

"You can thank Donnie for that," I looked over at Don who flushed.

"I didn't do that much," Donnie murmured softly.

That's when Leo spoke up again, "I think Master Splinter should hear about this." His arms were still crossed over his chest. He looked at the three of us, obviously waiting for expressions or replies. My heart dropped at the words. I knew that this meant trouble. Whenever a parent had to hear about a bad situation, it usually almost always meant trouble.

No objections came around, but Raph and Don looked like their hearts where in their stomachs as well. Raph's eyes narrowed and he looked away out into the city. Worry flashed in his eyes. Donnie simply looked at the ground with his shoulders slumped. I could tell he felt guilty and it made me feel guilty too. Mikey eye's grew and he looked between the youngest of his older brothers.

What now? Would Master Splinter kick me out? I doubted it. Donnie made him sound very understanding and more like a father character for them than anything, but some dad's tended to be a bit overprotective of his children when he felt they were endangered. And I could already tell that my story as of coming from Shredder wasn't entirely adding up. That's what send wild options up my already chilled spine.


End file.
